A Brother's Jealousy
by mistopurr
Summary: There has always been a tension between Legolas and one of his brothers. But what happens when one of them takes things too far?
1. False Accusations

**Disclaimer: **I'm only saying this once – anyone you recognize does not belong to me, as much as I wish they did!

Legolas Greenleaf, youngest son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, absentmindedly turned over a page in his book, closing his eyes for a moment as dust rose. In the world of men, the Prince was a mere fourteen years old, and for a boy of that age, archery and swordplay were the activities that were greatly loved.

Although he enjoyed practising both of those skills, Legolas also enjoyed being out in the forest, either conversing with the trees he had come to know and love, or sitting up in one of their high branches and reading, as he was doing at that moment. Except, he was actually lying on his bed, studying a boring and monotonous book about Dwarves – he was only doing it because his tutor had told him to write three pieces of parchment on the hairy beings.

The door to his room suddenly flew open, and Calaen, Thranduil's second born, stormed into the room. Legolas did not look up, though. He chose instead to keep his gaze fixed on a particularly large dwarf. The young Prince had long ago become used to his brother's temper, and although he still hated it, he had resigned himself to the fact that it would never change.

At a mortal age of nineteen, Calaen was tall and muscular, with striking green eyes and long black hair that hung down to below his shoulders. He had the delicately pointed ears of Elves, and the ethereal beauty, but he could not have looked any different to his brothers and father even if he had tried.

"I want to speak with you," Calaen snapped.

Legolas looked up briefly, before flicking his eyes back down to the book. "I did not think you came in to admire the ceiling," he muttered.

"What were you doing in my room?" Calaen demanded, choosing to let the comment pass.

"What are you doing in mine?" Legolas asked calmly. Still, he did not look up.

Calaen strode forwards to the bed, and without saying anything, took the book from his brother's hands. The younger Prince hissed in annoyance and tried to snatch it back, but the elder shook his head, and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud, and dropped to the ground.

"There was no need for that," Legolas snapped.

"Shut up and listen to me," Calaen hissed. "You went into my room, and I did not give you permission to be in there. It was you who broke the string of my bow."

Legolas blinked in surprise. "I have not been in your room. I know you do not like it when I do. And what is this about your bow? I did not even know the string was broken. Why are you accusing me? Why should I wish to do anything like that?"

"Oh, now you are denying it," Calaen said coldly.

"Of course I am, because I had nothing to do with it," Legolas said firmly.

Calaen glared at the younger Elf for a moment, before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him off the bed. "Maybe your memory will be refreshed if you look at the damage you have done."

"But I do not know what you're talking about," Legolas protested, pulling himself free.

Calaen merely grabbed him again, tighter this time. "Do not make this worse for yourself."

"I can walk perfectly well on my own," Legolas hissed, as he was dragged down the corridor.

"Shut up," Calaen snapped back.

When Legolas had been an Elfling, he had requested that his chamber be in the middle of the corridor, so that he would not be far away from his brothers or his parents. But then Calaen changed. He became cold and spiteful, and treated his little brother like dirt. Legolas had told Thranduil that he wanted a new room, but the King refused, saying that there was nothing wrong with the room he already had. So, the Prince was stuck – Calaen's own room was only a few doors down.

"Here," the dark haired Prince said, pushing his brother through an oak door. "The bow is there, on the bed. Have another look at what you-

"Think what you want!" Legolas spat. "Calaen, you are so irrational."

"And tell me, how did you work that one out?" the other Elf asked.

Legolas hissed in annoyance, his silver eyes flashing. "You have no reason to accuse me of anything. You cannot even back up your accusation. What proof do you have that I have done anything?"

"I know what you are like!" Calaen shouted. "You are spoilt and spiteful, and you just cannot stand the fact that I'm better at archery than you. That's why you did this – your jealousy drove you to do something petty and immature like this!"

"You have just had your best bow destroyed. I would expect you to be slightly more distressed about it than you are," Legolas retorted. He paused, and looked up into his brother's eyes. "You know it wasn't me."

Calaen took a step forward, his expression hard. "Then, tell me who else it would be."

"I don't know. And to be perfectly honest, I do not care any more," Legolas replied, turning on his heel, and brushing past the elder Prince.

"You have always destroyed things."

Legolas wheeled around, heart pounding. "What do you mean by that?"

Calaen smiled nastily, and his eyes flickered with malevolence. "You know."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

King Thranduil nodded as he listened to his eldest son - the Crown Prince of Mirkwood - give his report on the happenings in the forest. As Airëlus spoke, there was a thud from the floor above, but the two Elves dismissed it as a servant being careless.

"You were saying?" Thranduil asked. He closed his eyes briefly as a series of thumps sounded above them. "How many Orcs did your patrol bring down?"

Prince Airëlus pushed his fair hair back off his face and smiled, blue eyes twinkling. Having just come back from patrol, there were a few smudges of dirt on his pale skin, but he was uninjured. "Every Orc was killed. We lost none of our soldiers, though some have suffered bruises. It is nothing serious."

"That is good. And, how many-

Thranduil was cut off by a crash from above him. He shot an irritated glance upwards – if the ceiling had been a person, it would have quailed under the cold eyes of the Mirkwood ruler. Shaking his head slightly, the King turned back to his son, about to speak again, when there were another few thumps. The two exchanged glances, before getting up and leaving to investigate.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas stared at his brother in shock, disbelief in his eyes. "You do not mean that," he said softly.

"Oh, I do. I would not say it if it was not the truth," the dark haired Elf replied.

Without warning, the younger Prince leapt forwards, and struck his brother across the face. Calaen was only momentarily stunned, and, despite his shock, reacted quickly. He pushed Legolas away, and held him against the wall.

"If you ever try _anything _like that again, I will make your life hell," he hissed, sharply backhanding his brother.

Legolas barely flinched, despite the older Elf's strong arm. "You are making an idle threat. You made my life hell a long time ago, and there is _nothing _you can do to make it any worse."

"Is there not?" Calaen smiled cruelly.

The two stared each other out – it was a battle between silver eyes and green. After a moment had passed, Calaen let his brother go, and turned away. That was a mistake on his part though, for Legolas stepped forward quietly, and stuck out one foot. It was a simple trick, but sometimes simple tricks thought up on the spur of the moment work much better than well thought out tricks. Calaen tripped and fell to the ground, his Elven balance failing him that time.

Legolas jumped over to his brother, and held him down. "Why do you always do this to me? Let go of the past, Calaen. You cannot change it. I have dealt with all of your cruel words before, but that was just too much."

"Everyone believes it to be true," Calaen spat. "Ada and Airëlus believe it. They despise you for what you did, but you are blind to what is in front of your eyes."

"You lie," Legolas hissed, slamming a fist into Calaen's stomach.

The dark haired Prince winced, but it did not stop him from pulling both knees up, and kicking his brother as hard as he could. Legolas sat back on his heels, holding one hand to his chest, trying to get his breath back. Calaen was stronger and more powerful than he, and had years more experience. He reeled, as a booted foot came up and kicked him full on in the face.

"You are not so brave now," Calaen said in a low voice. "You are weak."

Forcing himself to ignore the pain, Legolas jumped to his feet and ran at his brother. He pushed hard, and as Calaen fell, he dragged the younger Elf down with him. All inhibitions forgotten as the cruel words replayed themselves over and over again in his head, Legolas raised his hand to hit the other Prince. What he did not expect though, was to have his arm grabbed from behind.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Legolas snapped his head around, and his eyes widened in shock. "Ada…"

Thranduil pulled his youngest son roughly to his feet, eyes blazing furiously, before reaching out a hand to help Calaen up. From the doorway, Airëlus watched the whole thing in silence. He had never known his brothers to fight like this. Yes, they had many arguments, normally over silly things. But this was worse than he had ever seen.

"What were you doing?" Thranduil demanded, turning sharply on Legolas.

The Prince glanced across at Calaen, unsure of what to say. He was loath to admit what had been said to provoke him – he would rather keep it safe in his head. But he knew he had to say _something_. He would be in far worse trouble if the King thought he had fought like that for nothing.

"Well?" Thranduil asked, snapping his fingers in front of Legolas' eyes.

The Prince flinched – the sharp sound seemed horribly loud in the tension filled room. He looked up helplessly, and slowly shook his head. "I…I do not…I…"

"Do you wish me to tell you what happened?" Calaen asked. At the King's nod, he sighed regretfully. "I told Legolas that I thought someone had been in here, because the string of my bow has been broken. He thought I was accusing _him_ of doing it. But of course, I wasn't. He flew into a wild rage and attacked me. That's all there is to it."

"What?" Legolas breathed. "Ada, he is making it up. That is not what happened."

Thranduil silenced his youngest with a look, before turning back to Calaen. "And, what do you have to say about that? _Are_ you making it up, as your brother claims?"

"I do not see why I should invent something like that," the dark haired Prince said incredulously. "I have told you nothing but the truth, Ada."

"So, how is it that Legolas looks as though he has taken a few blows?" Airëlus asked, putting a protective hand on his youngest brother's shoulder.

"I could not just stand there and let him carry on like he was," Calaen replied. "I had to defend myself in some way."

Thranduil nodded slowly, and looked over at Legolas. "Go back to your own room, and I will come to speak with you. Airëlus, go with him."

"Why are you taking his word over mine?" the golden haired Prince asked, hurt flitting across his face "He always tries to turn you against me, and you know it. Are you so blind that you fall for it…again?"

"Get out!" Thranduil snapped.

"Ada, I did not mean that," Legolas said. He bit down on his already bleeding lip. "I am sorry."

"Leave it," Airëlus said softly.

Legolas shot Calaen one last look of anger before brushing the Crown Prince's hand away from his shoulder, and storming from the room. Airëlus sighed, and followed his brother with a roll of his eyes. Calaen just watched them go, a smile dancing on his lips.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	2. Unjust Consequences

As the door closed behind Airëlus, King Thranduil turned back to Calaen. "What else happened between you and your brother?" he asked, ending the sentence in a deep sigh.

"No, there was nothing else," the Prince replied. "I said or did nothing to provoke him, so I do not understand why he got so angry at me."

"Then you see why I also am having trouble understanding it," Thranduil said. "Legolas is not like that. He does not fight unless he has to, or if he _has _been provoked. Calaen, are you sure that you did not-

The dark haired Elf looked up angrily. "Do you really think I would say something to hurt him? Why would I do that to my own brother?"

"No, I do not think that you said something to hurt him," Thranduil replied. "Do not jump to conclusions. All I am saying is that this is not like the Legolas I know."

"I suppose you will let him get away with this," Calaen said, working hard to keep the sullenness from his voice.

Thranduil sighed deeply – he despised having to punish his children. "Of course not. He needs to know that what he did was wrong, and I will make sure that he does. But you also need to know that you did not act correctly."

"Then, how should I have acted?" Calaen asked, throwing himself sullenly into a chair.

"You are a lot older and stronger than Legolas. He may have started the fight, but he came out of it worse than you did," Thranduil replied. "You should not have retaliated. Why did you not come to find Airëlus or I? This could all have been avoided."

"Airëlus would not listen to me. He is the same as everybody else, Ada. He is fooled by Legolas, and thinks he can do no wrong." Calaen laughed humourlessly. "It seems as though I am the only one who can see him for what he really is."

Thranduil held up a hand to cut his son off. "You are angry, so I will let these comments pass. Try and stop thinking such things – you will only regret them later."

"Yes Ada," Calaen muttered. Sighing, he reached over to the bed and picked up the bow, pulling at the snapped string.

"Do not worry about that," Thranduil said, as he went over to the door. "It can easily be fixed."

"Yes Ada," Calaen repeated.

As the Elven-king left the room, the dark haired Prince threw the bow to the floor in fury. Legolas may still be Thranduil's blue eyed boy. But not for long. That would all change. It would change drastically.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil stood outside Calaen's room, and grimaced as he heard the Prince throwing something violently to the ground. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and counted to ten in Quenya, in an attempt to calm himself, before going down the corridor to Legolas' room. Airëlus was standing outside, leaning against the wall. He inclined his head briefly at his father.

"Has Legolas calmed down?" Thranduil asked.

"I would not know," Airëlus replied dryly. "He ignored me when I tried to speak with him. Then I tried to follow him into his room, but he slammed the door in my face. Something tells me he is not very happy."

Thranduil sighed as he pushed the door open. "Thank you. You may go now, Airëlus."

Inside the room, Legolas was sat on his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. When the door opened, he looked up to see who it was, but immediately turned his face away again. He remained silent – he wanted to wait and see what other lies Calaen had been spinning about him.

"You want to hear what your brother said about you," Thranduil said. He knew from many past experiences what Legolas did in these situations.

The Prince shrugged. "I suppose."

"Tell me your side of the story," Thranduil said sharply. "Then you can hear what Calaen had to say."

Legolas shrugged his shoulders again, and flicked his eyes to the other side of the room. He brushed the back of his hand across his split lip, grimacing at the taste of blood in his mouth. Many times had he fought with Calaen. He should have become used to it by now. But he hadn't. He doubted whether he ever would.

Thranduil reached down, and turned Legolas' face towards him. "You really _have _emerged from the fight worse off than Calaen did," he said softly, wiping some blood from his son's cheek.

"He knows how to fight," the Prince said shortly. "He is good at it."

Thranduil nodded, and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I want to hear your side of the story."

"Calaen did not tell me that someone had damaged his bow," Legolas sighed. "He accused _me_ of doing it, so I denied it, because I did no such thing. We….we just started arguing after that, and it led to a fight. That's all there is to it."

"Were you the one who dealt the first blow?" Thranduil asked in a low voice.

Legolas lowered his eyes. "Well…."

"I asked you a question," the Elven-king snapped. "Were you the one who dealt the first blow? You are trying my patience, Legolas. Now, answer me!"

"Yes, it was me," the Prince said quickly. "I was so frustrated by his accusations that I lost my temper. He made me angry, and I-

"That is no excuse!" Thranduil yelled, slamming a hand onto the desk. "You should not have done it, and that is all there is to it!"

Legolas flinched, and looked up at his father helplessly. "I'm sorry, Ada, I really am. I did not mean for it to go that far."

Thranduil made no reply as he went to a basin at the side of the room to dampen a cloth. Legolas watched him in silence, waiting for some kind of reaction. The King was unpredictable; sometimes he would be cold and quiet, and use the 'I'm-very-disappointed-in-you voice'. At other times, he would just explode. The Prince wondered what was going to happen today.

After a minute of tense silence, he came back to the bed and sat down once more, holding the wet cloth. Still without speaking, he leaned forwards and touched it to one of his son's injuries. Legolas hissed and drew back slightly at the sting. Thranduil looked at the Prince in what seemed to be sympathy.

"Sorry," he said softly.

Legolas nodded, and held himself still to let his father treat the wounds. "I am sorry for what I did. And I am sorry for what I said to you. I really did not mean it."

"What you said to me does not matter any more," Thranduil sighed. "I am more concerned about what you did to Calaen. How is it that something so trivial could ignite such fury in you?"

Legolas' eyes hardened as he recalled his brother's words. "I do not know what happened. There is no use asking me why I did it, because I will not be able to answer you. All I can say is that I was angry."

"Have it your own way," Thranduil said. "But I would rather you tell me the truth than lie through your teeth."

"I am not-

The King threw the cloth down onto the desk "Legolas, as a Prince, you should know how to conduct yourself. Obviously you do _not_ know, and that is disappointing. I expected better of you."

"Ada-

"Clean yourself up, and then go to Calaen. You owe him an apology. When you have done that, you can come back here and finish that work you were doing," Thranduil said. "Where is the…?" He trailed off as he caught sight of the book lying on the floor. "What is it doing there?"

"Calaen took it off me," Legolas replied. "He-

"Alright, I have had enough of your excuses," Thranduil snapped. "How many pages have you been told to write?"

"Three," Legolas sighed.

The King nodded, and threw the book onto the bed. "I want six pages done by tomorrow. If you fail to do so, then you are banned from the archery fields for a week."

"But-

"Maybe this will make you think twice before behaving in such a way again," Thranduil said coldly. With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Legolas sighed deeply, and continued to wash the blood from his face. Although he had no reason to believe Calaen's words – that he was despised by his father and eldest brother – he still felt slightly fearful. What if there _was_ some truth to it? What if he really was blind, and could not see what everyone else could?

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil and his two elder sons looked up as the door opened. Legolas glanced across at his father first of all, and at a nod from the King, turned to his brother. "I am sorry, Calaen, for what I did to you," he said shortly. "I know that it was wrong of me. It will not happen again."

The dark haired Prince nodded. "That is alright, Legolas. But I was not accusing you of damaging my bow. I was merely asking if you knew anything about it. You are far too quick to judge. You would do well to listen to what others have to say, before jumping to such conclusions."

"I will remember that," Legolas said softly. Despite his calm manner, he was seething inside. How dare Calaen speak like that? He was the one lying!

Thranduil smiled briefly at his second son. "You at least have shown _some_ maturity during this, Calaen. Legolas, you can go back and make a start on that work now." With that, the Elven-king turned, and left to go back to his study.

"You should do what he says, Legolas," Airëlus said, smiling gently at his youngest brother. "He told me what you have to do. It is a harsh punishment, I think."

"Then, what would you have Ada do instead?" Calaen asked sharply.

Airëlus turned his gaze upon the dark haired Elf, a cold glint in his eyes. "It takes more than one person to start a fight, as well you know. To have one punished, and not the other seems unfair to me."

"Yes, maybe to you," Calaen sneered.

Airëlus merely rolled his eyes in irritation. He had just come off patrol, and had no wish to deal with two temperamental brothers. He turned sharply on his heel and left the room without saying another word. Legolas made to follow, but Calaen grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him close.

"You remember what I told about everyone despising you for what you did? Well, I meant every word of it," he hissed.

Legolas glared at his brother as he wrenched his wrist away. "Say what you want. I can tell Ada."

"Yes, that's right – take the easy way out," the dark haired Prince said. "Oh, I forgot. That's the only way for you, isn't it?"

Legolas looked up into the malicious green eyes in front of him for a moment, before turning and leaving the room. Calaen watched him go, a smile playing on his lips. When the door slammed shut, he laughed cruelly.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	3. Revealed Secret

King Thranduil looked up as there was a knock on his study door. "Come in," he called, putting down his quill pen.

Airëlus entered the room, and sat down in front of his father's desk. Upon leaving Calaen and Legolas, he had gone to his own room and gotten changed out of the clothes he had been wearing on his return from patrol. He began fiddling absentmindedly with his newly done braids, and stared out of the window in silence.

"Is everything alright?" Thranduil prompted.

The Crown Prince flicked his eyes across to meet his father's, and sighed deeply. "I am not sure. Legolas is hiding something. He never was any good at keeping things secret."

"That is true. But what could possibly be so bad that he does not want to tell us?" Thranduil asked.

"I will go up and see him later," Airëlus replied. "With all due respect, I do not think that you are his favourite Elf at the moment."

"I expected no less," Thranduil said. "Do not spend too long talking with him, though. If he does not finish that work, he is banned from the archery fields. I do not want it to come to that."

Airëlus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wondering how best to voice his opinion. "That was the other thing I wanted to speak to you about. Ada, do you think it fair to punish Legolas and not Calaen?"

"You saw that Legolas was about to strike Calaen," Thranduil replied. "Would you have me do nothing about it? Airëlus, I am punishing him because of what I saw."

"But Calaen hurt Legolas also, and he is getting away with it," the Crown Prince replied. "I just do not think that is fair. Alright, he says he was only defending himself, but I think he went a little too far in his defence."

"Then, what are you saying?" Thranduil asked sharply.

Airëlus felt a little uneasy under his father's gaze, but he held his ground. "All I am saying is that Calaen is getting away with what he did, whilst all the blame is being put on Legolas."

"Then, I will punish Calaen so that Legolas feels better," Thranduil replied. "Is that fair?"

"Never mind," Airëlus sighed. "Just forget I ever said anything."

"Look, Calaen is so much older than Legolas. He is mature enough to correct his mistakes. And because he is older, if I were to punish him, he would just feel humiliated," Thranduil said. "What would you feel like if I punished you for something?"

"Yes alright, I see your point," Airëlus snapped. "But this is not about me."

Thranduil leant forwards, and fixed his son with a cold glare. "Calaen is not a child. Legolas is. Airëlus, you know that I love him with all of my heart, but that does not mean I will hesitate to discipline him if he needs it. This time he needed it. I'm sorry you feel this way, but that is all there is to say on the subject."

"Very well," Airëlus muttered.

"Do not think I enjoy doing this," Thranduil said. "Maybe you think me harsh. But one day, if you have children, you may well find yourself in the very same position. Then you will understand my reasons."

Airëlus inclined his head and got to his feet. "If you say so. I will go and see Legolas now. If he tells me anything, I will inform you."

"Thank you." Thranduil sighed deeply as his eldest son left the room – he despised having to deal with things like this.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas stared down at the book, and shook himself mentally. He was sure that he had never read anything quite so tedious in his whole life! He had been reading for just over an hour, and was only half way through. There was no way he would be able to get through the whole book, _and _write six pieces of parchment on what he had read.

Just as he was about to slam the book shut, the door to his room opened. He had expected it to be either Calaen come to gloat, or Thranduil come to check up on him. The Prince relaxed though, when he saw that it was neither.

"How are you?" Airëlus asked softly, sitting on the bed.

"Angry, irritated, exasperated, tired, and filled with a burning desire to wrap that snapped bowstring around Calaen's neck, and pull very hard," Legolas replied. "And yourself?"

Airëlus laughed softly, pale blue eyes twinkling. "Do not let Ada hear you say that. You are in enough trouble as it is. How much have you done?"

"Well, I have another two hundred pages or so to read, but I've already started writing," Legolas replied, passing his brother a piece of parchment from the desk.

The Crown Prince looked down, and the humour was suddenly gone from his face. "Legolas, you gave written the title."

"I got sidetracked," the younger Elf sighed. At the expression on Airëlus' face, he passed over another piece of parchment. "I didn't mean to, I just…you know."

"Trees," Airëlus said slowly. "You drew trees."

"Not just any trees," Legolas said "It is the forest at night. Can you not tell? Look, I even put us in there. You're there, in front of that tree. And I'm up in the branches, throwing things at Calaen."

Airëlus cleared his throat pointedly. "Admirable as this is, it is not what you should have been doing."

Legolas lowered his eyes and nodded. "I know. But I just cannot concentrate, no matter how hard I try. Ada wants this in his study by tomorrow morning otherwise he will keep me from the archery fields for a week. A whole week, Airëlus! What am I going to do?"

"You are not making it any easier for yourself by drawing trees," the Crown Prince said.

"I will not be able to do it. Calaen will love that," Legolas muttered, choosing to ignore his brother's last remark.

Airëlus sighed, and went to sit at the desk. "I did not come up here to do this, but I will help you. I can remember when I had lessons, and had to study Dwarves, so I sympathise with you. Alright, you read that book, and I will write some notes for you."

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked. "What if Ada finds out?"

"He won't. At least, not if we do not tell him," Airëlus replied, dipping a quill into the ink bottle.

Legolas smiled gratefully as he picked up the book again. He looked down at the page, but as soon as he did so, all the words and images began to swim in front of him. One word in particular leapt out to him: destroy. He remembered what Calaen had said to him, and he closed his eyes tightly, trying to block it out.

"I am doing you a favour. You could at least _try _and read the book," Airëlus said sharply.

The young Prince looked up in surprise. He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he had forgotten his brother was there. "Sorry. I was thinking about something."

"Valar save us all," Airëlus muttered, laying his quill down. "Go on, then. What were you thinking?"

Legolas closed the book and laid it down on the bed beside him. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he bit down on his lip. "I…there was something that I did not tell Ada," he began hesitantly. "I fought Calaen because he…. No, it does not matter. Forget I ever said anything."

"What did he do?" Airëlus asked softly.

The golden haired Prince rose, and without another word to the other Elf pushed open the doors to the balcony, and went to stand outside. He stared at the trees, angry with himself for even thinking that telling his brother what Calaen had said would have been a good idea. Of course it was not. He did not want more trouble, but that was would be caused.

"Tell me," Airëlus said quietly, as he too came out onto the balcony.

"It was nothing," Legolas replied.

The Crown Prince sighed, and rested a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Calaen did or said something to provoke you. I want to know what happened."

"Will you leave the matter alone? I have told you that it was nothing," Legolas snapped, spinning around and pushing past the older Elf.

Airëlus reached out, and grabbed the back of his brother's tunic. "What is holding you back?"

"You are, now let go of me!"

"You know what I mean. What is holding you back from telling me? What are you afraid of?" Airëlus asked. He paused, and turned Legolas' face towards him. "Please. I cannot help you if I do not know what is wrong."

"If I tell you what really happened, you must give me your word that this goes no further," the young Prince replied. "Ada especially cannot hear this."

"Alright."

"Swear it," Legolas said urgently. "Promise me that you will keep this to yourself."

"I promise," Airëlus said in surprise. "This information will go no further. You have my word."

Legolas looked up into his brother's eyes, seeking reassurance that everything would be alright. He found the honesty that he had wanted, and nodded slowly. Then, he began to speak…

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	4. Painful Memory

Calaen sat on the edge of his bed, absentmindedly pulling the snapped string of his bow through his fingers. He smiled coldly. His plan had worked perfectly. He had had to damage one of his best weapons to get what he wanted. But still, what did that matter? The blame had been put entirely onto Legolas.

The dark haired Prince leaned forwards, resting his head in his hands, wondering what he could do next. There was no real reason for him to do anything. Thranduil was leaving for Rivendell in a few days, and Airëlus was going off on patrol. It was not a long time to wait. But he would do all that he could in those few days to make his younger brother's life a living hell.

Just as a plan was beginning to formulate in Calaen's mind, the door was kicked open with such force, that it nearly came off its hinges. It hit against the wall with a resounding crash, and the young Elf stared in surprise as Airëlus stormed into the room, sparks flying from his pale blue eyes, his expression one of fury.

"What have you done?" the Crown Prince hissed, jerking his brother to his feet.

"Me? What do you speak of? I have done nothing," Calaen replied, startled.

"Don't you dare," Airëlus snapped. "Don't you dare deny _anything. _Legolas told me what you said to him. How could you? Can you imagine what pain you have caused him?"

Calaen swallowed nervously. It was bad enough that Airëlus knew. But if the King was to find out… he shook himself mentally. "Is Legolas very upset?"

"I cannot say. I came straight to you as soon as he finished talking," Airëlus said coldly. "But he sounded very upset. Calaen, why would you say something like that? What possessed you?"

"I…I don't…" The dark haired Elf closed his eyes tightly. "What are you going to do?"

"Do? Nothing. You see, unlike you, I am not the sort who bullies and fights those younger and weaker than myself," Airëlus replied, pushing his brother away from him. "But I want you to tell Ada the truth about this. If he does not know by tomorrow, then I tell him myself. Understand?"

"Yes," Calaen muttered.

"Good. And if I ever hear that you have said anything like this again, then you will be _very _sorry," Airëlus said in a low voice. He shot the other Elf one last cold look, before turning, and leaving the room.

Calaen winced as the door was slammed shut again. He screwed up his eyes in frustration, positively terrified – though of course he would admit that to no-one. Thranduil was sure to find out about this, and there was no knowing how great _his _anger would be.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Begin Flashback**

The golden haired Elfling bit his lip as he began to climb the large tree. He wasn't really supposed to be doing that – his father would be very angry if he knew. But Legolas didn't care. His mother had climbed to the top of the tree to get a red leaf for him. He had wanted it very much, but when he realised how long it was taking, he had changed his mind, and claimed that a green one was much better.

"Nana, are you still there?" Legolas called uncertainly, as everything went silent. "Nana!"

Suddenly, there was a cry of horror from up above. "No, stay where you are! I am coming down to get you. Do not move!"

Queen Findilan spun around and jumped from the branch she was on, and over to the next one. She landed with her usual grace, but her long hair whipped around her face and in her eyes. She made a noise of despair and leaped onto another branch. But her vision was slighted. She misjudged.

With a cry of terror she scrabbled desperately, trying to find something, anything to grab onto, to stop her fall. But it was too late. She could not stop herself. She fell. Branches ripped at her clothing and her face. She felt nothing. Nothing except the rushing wind. She saw nothing. Nothing except the ground flying up to meet her. She heard nothing. Nothing except the screaming of her youngest child, as he witnessed the horror of his mother's death.

**End Flashback**

The present day Legolas was jerked from the past as the door to his room opened. Airëlus entered, and the young Prince swiftly brushed his hand across his eyes, and forced himself to smile. The older Elf sat on the bed, wondering how to start the conversation after what he had just learnt. He need not have worried, though – his brother began speaking first of all.

"Where did you go?"

"To Calaen," Airëlus replied. "Ada will find out about this. By tomorrow, he will know."

Legolas snapped his eyes up in horror. "But you said that he would not find out about this. You promised me, you gave me your word. I beg of you: do not tell him."

"Why do you not want him to know?" Airëlus asked.

"You have no idea what this is like. I was there when it happened. I was there when Naneth died. It was because of me that she…" Legolas shook his head sadly. "I did not kill her. But it was still my fault."

Airëlus sighed deeply at his brother's words. "No. Never have you been blamed for her death. Nor will you ever. What happened was a tragedy, and even now I still wish with all my heart that it had never occurred. But I do not blame you."

"You can say something, but you do not have to mean it," Legolas replied.

The Crown Prince reached out, and gripped the other Elf's shoulder. "Listen to me. And listen well, because I will say this only once. To repeat it is unnecessary. I do not blame you. Ada does not blame you. Calaen does not blame you."

"But he-

"Ignore him. You know what he is like when he has not had a good day," Airëlus cut in. "Besides, he does not know what he is saying at the best of times. His words mean nothing, Legolas, nothing at all. Even now he probably hates himself for what he said to you."

The golden haired Elf smiled bitterly at that. Calaen, feeling bad for something he had done or said? Yes, that was as likely to happen as King Thranduil giving up the throne to one of the spiders of Mirkwood. Airëlus' intentions were good, but he knew nothing of the ongoing feud between his two brothers. He was oblivious to its existence.

"Trust me," the Crown Prince said softly.

"You are right," Legolas replied. "I am sure that Calaen did not mean a word of it."

Airëlus smiled at the younger Elf. "Talk to Ada about this. He will tell you exactly what I have. You need not worry any more. Everything will be fine." He silently prayed that his words were truthful.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	5. Fatal Departure

The door to Legolas' room swung open silently, and someone entered the vicinity, but the young Prince of Mirkwood slept on, oblivious to the new presence. He shifted slightly in his sleep, and the newcomer shrunk back into the shadows, breath held. However, he did not wake.

The moon came out from behind some clouds that it had been hiding behind, and the hidden face was suddenly illuminated. It was Calaen. On silent feet he moved to stand beside the bed. He reached down a slender hand, and gently trailed it down his brother's cheek, smiling cruelly.

"Airëlus has been won over by you. But I will foil his plan," the dark haired Elf murmured. "Just you wait and see."

He snapped his gaze across to the desk, eyes lighting up as he found what he had sought. Next to the book of Dwarven history that Legolas had been studying lay six pieces of neatly written work, along with another piece of parchment covered in scribblings. The rough work looked suspiciously like Airëlus'. Interesting.

Calaen smiled as he picked up the seven pieces of parchment, and tucked them under his tunic. He turned and went over to the door, but just before he left the room, he looked back at Legolas, and shot him a glance of pure hatred.

………………………………………………………………………………………............

A few hours later, Legolas was out of bed, washed, dressed, and ready to go down to breakfast. Still he remained blissfully unaware that Calaen had even set foot in his room the previous night, so when he went over to his desk to get his work for the King, and saw that it was not there, he thought nothing of it. Airëlus had probably come in already, and it was with him.

Legolas pulled a dark green tunic on over his loose blue one, and quickly pulled a brush through his golden hair. Not once did his thoughts stray to the matter of his vanished work.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Calaen sat at the dining table, drumming his fingers impatiently. Though, the expression on his face was calm. It had to be. He had learnt a long time ago the correct way to act when his father and elder brother spoke about Legolas. It had been far from easy, teaching and disciplining himself to always keep the hatred masked, and the glint from his eye. But he had done it.

"Where is he?" Thranduil muttered. "You would think that, considering the trouble he has already gotten himself into, that he would do his best to try and avoid getting into any more."

"Then, you are still angry with him?" Airëlus asked softly.

The Elven-king paused, but then shrugged lightly. "No. But I am not happy with him, either. Would you be?"

Airëlus was spared from answering that question, by the opening of the oaken doors at the end of the dining hall. Legolas came in and sat down quickly, and although he nodded at his father, he kept his eyes lowered. Calaen sat in silence, watching his brother impassively, but smiling inwardly.

"Did you have something important to attend to, Legolas?" Thranduil asked coldly.

The Prince bit down on his lip, and shook his head. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting. I was-

"You are here now. It does not matter," Thranduil cut in. He felt a moment's irritation when Legolas did not meet his gaze, but then he realised that his two older children had also looked away.

Airëlus was absentmindedly pulling at the ends of the tablecloth, looking as though his mind was fixed on other matters. Calaen's gaze remained on Legolas, though his eyes had become unfocused – he too was obviously leagues away. The Elven-king coughed lightly, but got no reaction. Again, he coughed, and again, there was nothing. Suddenly, he slammed his hand down onto the tabletop, and three pairs of startled eyes were immediately raised.

"Oh good. I thought for a moment there that all three of you were walking the road of dreams," Thranduil said dryly. He paused, and looked carefully at the Princes. "What is wrong?"

"We are merely tired, that is all," Airëlus replied, shooting a sideways glance at Calaen.

"All three of you?" Thranduil asked.

"I had trouble sleeping last night. It just would not come, for some reason. And of course, Legolas was up late doing that work," Airëlus said. He smiled sympathetically at his youngest brother. "I do not know if he finished it, though."

"I did," Legolas replied.

Thranduil glanced over to see if the servants had begun to bring out food. They hadn't. "It does not look as though we will be eating any time soon. I will have that work now, if it is not too much trouble for you, Legolas."

"It is not," the Prince replied, pushing back his chair. He looked at his eldest brother pointedly, but Airëlus' face remained blank.

"Is something keeping you?" Thranduil sighed.

"No. Sorry," Legolas muttered. He shot the Crown Prince one last look of despair, before turning and leaving the room. How could he possibly bring work that he did not have to the King?

There was silence whilst Legolas left, but as soon as the doors were shut once again, Thranduil rested his arms on the table, and sighed deeply. The cool expression he had previously worn disappeared, and there was great concern on his face. Calaen put a hand on his father's shoulder, and smiled.

"Is everything well, Ada?" he asked.

"You remember that I am leaving for Rivendell tomorrow? I cannot leave. Legolas is….I do not know, but I cannot go whilst he is acting like this," Thranduil replied.

"Why should you be afraid to leave him? Airëlus and I will be here to take care of him," Calaen said. "Besides, you have to go, do you not? I thought that Lord Elrond asked you there for a reason."

Thranduil nodded slowly. "Yes. But Legolas has been behaving so differently these past few days. I do not know why he-

The doors opened suddenly, cutting the Elven-king off mid-sentence. His youngest son entered the dining hall, a look of worry on his face. He had searched his room high and low for the work, but he had found nothing, nothing at all. Thranduil noticed the expression on Legolas' face, and closed his eyes, wondering what could have happened now.

"Ada, may I speak with Airëlus?" the Prince asked softly.

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it here," Thranduil replied.

Legolas bit down on his lip, and looked at his brother. "Airëlus, did you take my work?"

"You left it on your desk, did you not?" the Crown Prince asked. "Besides, why should I wish to take it?"

"You wouldn't, I suppose. I was just wondering," Legolas sighed.

Thranduil shook his head in irritation. "Never mind about it now. Just sit down, and you can find it later."

"Wait a moment. Was it Dwarven history that you did work on?" Calaen asked suddenly. "I saw that this morning. I will go and get it for you now."

As the dark haired Elf left the dining hall, Airëlus shot his youngest brother an enquiring glance. How and why would Calaen possibly know where it was? There was a tense silence in the room, broken only by the drumming of Thranduil's fingers on the tabletop. Legolas kept his gaze fixed on the doors, his mind spinning wildly as he wondered what Calaen was up to.

The young Prince loved his brother, but he hated him also. He hated him for every taunting word that was said, every cold glare that was sent his way, for every bit of violence that he was subjected to, and for the innocence that Calaen possessed when others around.

But he would never deny that he loved his brother. He did, despite the cruelty and malice. Part of him still held out hope that maybe one day Calaen would change again, and go back to being the loving and gentle Elf that he had once been. But a greater part of Legolas knew that however much he hoped, wished and prayed, nothing would ever change. At least not for the better.

Just as the silence in the room was beginning to feel almost unbearable, the doors at the end of the dining hall opened, and Calaen came back in. He was holding the pieces of parchment, but his face was troubled. Airëlus tensed, immediately suspecting that something was wrong.

"I found Legolas' work, Ada," Calaen said slowly, handing it all to the King. "But there is a problem."

Thranduil looked down at the parchment, and his eyes narrowed as he realised what had been done. "Airëlus, Calaen, I wish to speak with Legolas. Could you give us a few minutes?"

"What has happened now?" the Crown Prince hissed. He turned blazing eyes upon his dark haired brother. "You've done something, haven't you?"

"That is enough," Thranduil snapped. "Just go, both of you."

Airëlus got to his feet, but the look of anger did not leave his face. He shot Calaen one last look of fury as he brushed past him, and stormed out of the main doors. The other Prince turned and left through one of the smaller exits, though he felt incredibly resentful that he could not stay and watch the argument.

"Would you care to explain exactly why you have done this?" Thranduil asked sharply.

Legolas' eyes flickered in surprise. "I do not know what you are talking about, Ada."

The Elven-king sighed, and threw the pieces of parchment down in front of his son. "Firstly, this work was meant for you. If I had wanted Airëlus to write about Dwarves, then I would have told him to. But I digress. His helping you is a small matter. Secondly, you can tell me why you have ripped it all in half."

"Ripped it…but I didn't-

"I do not care!" Thranduil shouted. "All it means is that you cannot go to the archery ground for a week, and that does not affect me at all. But it affects _you, _Legolas. You knew what the consequences would be if this work was not completed."

"I did complete it," the Prince said. "And I didn't-

"I can see that you completed it," Thranduil replied. "But you ripped it up. Why did you bother writing the whole thing, if you were just going to destroy it as soon as you had finished?"

Legolas picked up a piece of parchment, and drew in a sharp breath as the two halves separated themselves. "Ada, I finished this late last night, and I was so tired that I went straight to bed. I left this work on my desk, and it was not like this then."

"Well, something has happened between last night and this morning," Thranduil snapped.

'_Calaen. It was him. He did this,' _Legolas thought bitterly.

The Elven-king sighed deeply, and rested a hand on his son's shoulder. "Tell me the truth. That is all I want to know. I am not going to be angry with you, Legolas, whatever happened."

"Why will you not believe me? I did not…." The Prince trailed off as he saw the hopelessness of the situation. He shook his head in defeat. "Yes, I did this."

"What is happening to you?" Thranduil asked. "I do not understand why you have changed so much. Something must have happened to make you like this."

"_I _have not changed," Legolas muttered.

"I thought you trusted me," Thranduil said softly. "Obviously I was wrong."

Legolas blinked back tears of rage and frustration. Rage at Calaen for causing this, and frustration at the King for not believing him. "I _do_ trust you, Ada. If there was anything to tell you, then you would know about it."

"No. You are shutting me out, Legolas, and that hurts. But I can do nothing about it," Thranduil sighed. He turned, and began walking to the doors. "I was going to leave for Rivendell, but there is a change of plan. I will be leaving today."

Legolas jumped to his feet, and went after his father. "Why now? What difference will leaving a day earlier make?"

"I do not wish to leave at all, but the sooner I go, then the sooner I can come back," Thranduil replied. "I would rather be here than in Rivendell whilst you are going through this."

"Going through….going through what?" Legolas asked incredulously.

"I do not know. But look at what you did to Calaen yesterday. You attacked him without reason. I want to be here if it happens again," Thranduil said. "I will be gone for a few weeks. Hopefully when I come back, the palace will still be as it was when I left it."

Legolas winced at the words. "So, you think that I am going….mad? Is that why you are leaving?"

"Please, do not say that," Thranduil sighed, reaching out and pulling his son to him. "I would have to leave anyway, you know that. I cannot avoid this council. Legolas, I think you are perfectly sane. I just think that you are going through a….a phase, at the moment."

The Prince laughed at that as he pulled away. "A phase? I know full well that there is nothing wrong with me. Maybe if you cared enough, you would also be able to see that. Maybe you would believe me."

"Legolas, you know that I care-

"Do not waste your breath. Just go to Rivendell, if you are going. And do not worry. Your beloved palace will still be here when you get back," Legolas snapped, turning on his heel and leaving the dining hall.

Thranduil opened his mouth to call his son back, but he swiftly decided against it. When the Prince was angry, he tended to stay angry for a very long. Shaking his head, the Elven-king also left the room, to go and inform his councillors that they would be leaving that very day.

He would not bother going to see his children before he left – no doubt Legolas would be with Airëlus, telling him about everything that had happened. Instead, he would ride with all speed to Rivendell, to try and get the council over and done with as quickly as possible.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Later that day, when the time had come for him to leave, Thranduil was sure that Legolas would be safe with the two elder Princes. As he galloped into the forest on his black mare, the Elven-king did not look back once at the palace. But he should have done. If he _had_, he would have seen his youngest son running through the main doors; he would have seen the despair on Legolas' face; he would have been told everything; and he would not have left.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	6. Threats

Legolas sat at the top of the steep palace steps, long after his father had left. Tears of guilt mixed with anger burned in his eyes as he kept replaying in his mind all that had happened those past few days. He was alone – alone and confused. Why did Calaen hate him so much? Why was he not believed?

"I saw Ada leaving a while ago. How are you?"

The Prince suddenly tensed, but relaxed again almost immediately. It was Airëlus. Or at least, that is what he believed. The newcomer _sounded _like his eldest brother. Legolas had taught himself to always be on his guard, and if his emotions had not been so consuming, then he surely would have remembered Calaen's ability to impersonate the others.

He shook his head sadly. "I do not know how to feel. Ada left because of me."

"He was going to leave anyway," Calaen replied, keeping the soft voice of Airëlus.

"That is not the point," Legolas muttered. "I don't know what to do. I try my hardest to get on with Calaen, but he just makes it so hard. What have I done to him? Why should he want to treat me the way that he does?" The young Prince could not stop his voice from shaking softly.

Calaen stepped forwards, and rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "He blames you, doesn't he? He blames you for killing her."

"I did not mean to," Legolas whispered, closing his eyes. He buried his face in his arms, letting the long held back tears fall freely.

"Of course it was not your fault," Calaen soothed. He rolled his eyes as he gently stroked his brother's golden hair.

"Then, why does he still blame me?" Legolas asked. "Why?"

"Because you did kill Naneth, and you got away with it. You should die for what you did!" Calaen snarled, instantly switching back to his own voice, as he tangled his hand in Legolas' hair, and pulled him to his feet.

The younger Prince's eyes widened in shock and he tried to call out, but Calaen pushed him against the wall, and covered his mouth. "Who is going to help you? Ada has been driven away by you, and Airëlus will not come. Why would he want to?"

Legolas shook his head in disbelief. It was not true – he knew that his eldest brother would _never _leave him to be harmed, no matter what Calaen said. The dark haired Elf took his hand away from his prisoner's mouth, but he did not release the tight grip that he had.

"If you call out, then rest assured you will be falling down those stairs," he said in a low voice. "Understand?"

"I thought you were Airëlus," Legolas said softly.

Calaen nodded, and smiled briefly. "I know. You forgot that I can mask my own voice by using those of others. Can you not remember when you were but an Elfling, and I would put on different voices to scare you?"

"I remember," Legolas muttered, swiping the sleeve of his tunic across his eyes.

The dark haired Elf touched a hand to his brother's cheek, and brushed away some of the tears. "Do not cry," he said silkily. "That would be a waste of your energy. You need to conserve it. Or, have you forgotten that we two will be left alone in the palace?"

Legolas shook his head. "We are not alone. Airëlus is here."

"You speak the truth. We are not alone…_yet_. But we will be soon enough, and then I can make you pay," Calaen sneered. "I will get rid of Airëlus, whatever it takes."

"You are going to kill him," Legolas breathed. "You would murder him in cold blood?"

"What has he ever done to hurt me? Nothing. So to answer your question: no, I am not going to kill him," Calaen replied. "He was supposed to be going on patrol today. He is not now. I do not think he trusts me with you. Now, why would that be? But I digress. I will get him out of Mirkwood, one way or another. But you, you will be staying right here with me."

Legolas closed his eyes, hardly daring to believe he was hearing this. "I can tell Airëlus. I could warn him of your sick plans."

"But you would not do that. Do you want to know why?" When the other Elf nodded, Calaen pushed him to the edge of the steps, and held him still.

"You wouldn't," Legolas breathed, gazing up into his brother's green eyes.

"Believe me, I would," Calaen said carelessly. "And I will do it, if you do not keep quiet." With that, he spun Legolas around, so that he could look down at the steps. "It is a long way down."

The young Prince nodded slowly, and tried desperately to step out of the tight grip he was being held in. Calaen however, shook him slightly to still him, and he smiled as he felt the waves of terror coming off his brother. He was so powerful, and it was that power which had kept him going all these years.

"Let me go," Legolas whispered, eyes closed. "I will not say anything to Airëlus. Please, do not make me stay here…with you."

Calaen nodded, and pulled the younger Elf back from the edge. "I will let you go. But I want you to do one thing for me: you must admit the truth."

"The….the truth?"

"Yes, the truth." Calaen smiled, and leaned forwards slightly. "We both know what _that _is, do we not?"

Legolas drew in a sharp breath as he realised what was meant. "I will not do that. I am no murderer."

The dark haired Elf said nothing, and kept his cold eyes fixed on his brother. Legolas held the gaze for a few seconds, but then he shook his head, and turned to leave. But Calaen reached out and grabbed his wrist, dragging him back. He pulled his brother close, and looked deep into his eyes.

"Let go of me!" Legolas hissed.

"Admit it," Calaen said softly.

It was too late that he saw the younger Elf's fist come swinging up, and he tried to dodge it. But he stepped backwards, when it would have been safer to step to the side. Calaen's foot met thin air, and as he fell from the top step, he tried valiantly to save himself, to grab onto anything that would stop him.

"Oh Valar," Legolas breathed, flinging out a hand to try and help his brother. But it was no use. Calaen fell.

………………………………………………………..……………………………………..

Airëlus looked up in irritation as the door to his room swung open violently. He was ready to shout at whoever it was to go back out and knock, but when Legolas ran in, red stains on his tunic and his hands, the Crown Prince was immediately concerned. He jumped to his feet, and waited impatiently for his brother to speak. But all Legolas could do was shake his head helplessly.

"What is it?" Airëlus demanded, gripping the younger Elf by the shoulders.

Legolas screwed up his eyes, and shook his head again. "Calaen…"

"You must tell me what has happened," Airëlus pressed. When he got no reaction, he shook Legolas briefly, before holding him still once more to look into his eyes. "Tell me."

"He fell…I didn't mean…." the golden haired Prince leaned forwards slightly, supporting himself against his brother. "Calaen fell, and he's not moving. You must go to him, Airëlus."

As soon as Legolas finished talking, the Crown Prince grabbed his arm, and pulled him from the room. "It will be alright. Calm yourself, and lead me to where he is."

Legolas nodded, blinking back tears. This time though, they were not tears of anger, rage or frustration – they were tears of guilt. What if Calaen was dead? First his mother, and now his brother. That would be the second member of the Royal Family to be killed under circumstances caused by him…

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	7. Another Memory

Legolas paced anxiously in his room, biting his lip and twisting his hands over and over again. He had wanted to stay in with Calaen, but Airëlus had sent him away. Apparently he was "too hysterical", and was not helping matters. The healers were looking after their Prince, and had been with him for just over an hour. Legolas had no idea of what was happening.

He sighed and sank down onto his bed, only to get up again immediately, and throw himself into a chair. He sat in it for a mere five seconds, before he stood, and resumed his pacing. He could not keep still; he wanted to see Calaen. He _had _to see Calaen; he had to know what damage had been caused.

Legolas had not intended to push his brother down the steps. All he had wanted to do was get away from the harsh taunts and cruel accusations that were being thrown at him. He would rather die than admit that he was a….he shook his head violently – he did not even want to _think_ the word.

But why did he feel guilty for hurting Calaen? The dark haired Elf had caused him so much pain over the past few years that something like this could easily be allowed to go by. After their mother had died, Calaen had made it his job to make sure that his little brother was _always _in trouble for something or other, even if it was not his fault.

**Begin Flashback**

"But that isn't fair, Ada!" the little Elfling protested. "It wasn't my fault. It was Calaen."

Thranduil ran a hand through his hair, and sighed deeply. "Do not try and place the blame on others, Legolas. If you have done something wrong, then you must accept the consequences for it, as I have told you countless times. What would happen if I believed you, when you said that it was Calaen's fault?"

"He would be punished and I would not," Legolas replied. His face brightened considerably. "That would be fair."

"No it would not," Thranduil said shortly. "You were the one in the armoury. I saw you there, and I also saw you playing with the knives and arrows, despite being told countless times – again – not to go down there and most certainly not to play with the weapons. You could have been seriously injured."

"But Calaen put me down there. Then he told me that I was a big Elfling, big enough to touch the weapons. So I did. And then I wanted to get out but I couldn't remember the way to go, so I played some more," Legolas said truthfully.

"I am sorry, but this is how it must be," Thranduil replied. "Now, I want you to go to your room, and think about what you have done."

"That's not fair," Legolas whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

The Elven-king forced himself not to take his words back as he realised how upset his little son was. Legolas had always been able to get himself out of trouble; there was just something about him. But it had happened one too many times. As Calaen had pointed out the other day, the Elfling would never learn if he was not disciplined.

"I don't want to go," Legolas said quietly. "In fact, I'm _not _going and you can't make me."

"Can't I?" The Elven-king hissed.

The child backed away fearfully, and a few more tears fell. "Do you blame me, Ada?"

"You were there, how can I not?" Thranduil replied, not realising that his son was not referring to the incident in the armoury. "If it were not for your behaviour, then we would not be having this conversation now. So the answer to your question is yes. Yes, I _do _blame you."

Legolas sat down on the floor, and began to cry softly. "I don't want you to blame me."

"Why do you shed tears?" Thranduil asked in amazement, going to the Prince and putting a hand on his shaking shoulder. "What is wrong with you?"

"You used to love me and now you don't," Legolas whispered. "I'm sorry, Ada. Please don't stop loving me. I won't do it again."

Feeling quite startled, Thranduil drew the child into his arms. "I have not stopped loving you. Whatever has given you that impression? Please, stop crying."

"I'm so sorry," Legolas sobbed, burying his face into his father's robes. "I didn't mean to hurt her. But it's my fault, and if I wasn't here, then she would still be alive. If you love me like you used to, I'll never hurt anyone again."

Thranduil winced as he realised what Legolas was talking about. "It is not your fault, ion-nin, and I have never blamed you. You must stop thinking like this. I will always love you, Greenleaf. And if _anyone_ even _thinks_ to try and place the blame on you, then you must tell me."

"Yes Ada," Legolas whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Hush. You will _never_have to feel like this again," Thranduil said softly.

**End Flashback**

Legolas shook his head to rid himself of the many different visions that clouded his mind. Going over to his desk, he pulled out one of the drawers, and began sorting through it. Inside were numerous bits of parchment, old books, letters, and memories from his childhood. But he pushed all of them aside to reveal two leaves. One red, one green.

He took them out and sat on the edge of the bed, not once taking his eyes off them. It had been a while since he had last looked at them, but they had not lost any of their hue. Or rather, the green one hadn't. In the week that Findilan had died, the red leaf's brightness had begun to fade. Now it was a light brown colour.

Legolas sighed deeply and held the leaves close to his heart, closing his eyes and biting down on his lip to stop any more tears from falling. But no sooner had he done that, then the door swung open. He turned to see who it was, and was surprised to see Airëlus standing there, a look of utmost disbelief on his face.

"What is it?" Legolas asked in alarm, jumping to his feet. "Has something happened to Calaen?"

The Crown Prince shook his head as he closed the door behind him. "No, he is fine. In fact, I have just been talking with him, and he…"

"He what?" Legolas asked softly.

"He told me what happened."

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	8. Blamed

Legolas swallowed nervously as he locked eyes with his eldest brother. "What did you speak to Calaen about?" he asked softly.

"Not a lot," Airëlus shrugged. "We spoke about the weather, the tricks that Elladan and Elrohir will play on their father and ours in the next few weeks, and we even delved into the history of Middle Earth. There was something else, but I cannot quite recall what…" He trailed off, apparently thinking about it. "Oh yes, I remember. We also touched on the matter of you pushing him down the steps."

Legolas sank down into a chair, and swept a hand through his hair. "What did he tell you?"

"Everything," Airëlus replied.

"I should imagine that his everything is a lot different than mine," Legolas sighed.

"Don't you dare say that!" the Crown Prince snapped. "This is one thing that you will _not_ be able to get yourself out of. You have really crossed the line this time. He told me how he tried to comfort you, and all you could do was push him away."

"He said what?" Legolas whispered.

"He told me that he went down to you a while after Ada left, because you seemed distressed. He comforted you, and don't try and deny that, because I saw him doing it," Airëlus said. "I was watching from my window."

"If you were watching, then you must have seen what happened after that," Legolas said incredulously. "How can you say that it was my fault?"

Airëlus shook his head and sat down opposite his younger brother. "I watched for only a brief moment. I saw him with his hand on your shoulder, but I stopped watching after that. He told me that you hit him."

"No. I tried to hit him, but-

"Is it not true then, that even though you had hurt him, he _still _tried to comfort you?" Airëlus hissed. "And then you held him at the top of the steps and threatened to throw him down them?"

Legolas opened his mouth to defend himself, but found that he was unable to speak, for so great was his shock. He merely shook his head in disbelief. How did Calaen have the nerve to say that? How could he find it in himself to lie like he had done? Was he not aware of what the consequences for his brother could be?

"I asked you a question. Is that true or not?" Airëlus pressed.

"How can you ask me such a thing?" Legolas demanded. "I cannot believe you are listening to him. You know what he's like. Why should I wish to push him? And what about my size? He is much taller than I am, and far stronger. Please, Airëlus. Even if I _was_ strong enough to do something like this, why would I?"

The Crown Prince shrugged lightly. "He has put you through a lot, is that not so? That is a perfect motive for you to do it. But back to my question: did you push him or not?"

"No, I did not," Legolas snapped.

"So, what happened then? He is an Elf. He would not have fallen for no reason. You know full well that we only fall if pushed," Airëlus said sharply.

"Naneth was not pushed, yet she fell," Legolas said softly.

The fair haired Elf laughed, though there was no humour to it. "No, you are not bringing her death into this. You have used her too many times to try and get yourself out of trouble. But not this time. Do you have no respect for her?"

"I never knew _you_ felt that way," Legolas said, stunned. He lowered his eyes to the leaves he was still holding, and ran a finger over the top one, the red one.

"Look at me," Airëlus said sharply. When he got no reaction, he jumped up and snatched the leaves away.

"Don't!" Legolas breathed, reaching out to grab them back. The Crown Prince however, unaware of their significance, threw them to the ground, and pushed his youngest brother back when he made to pick them up.

Legolas locked eyes with the other Elf, and shook his head sadly. "What do you want me to say? Do you _want_ to hear that I pushed Calaen, with the intent to kill him? I will say that, if you _really_ want me to. But Airëlus, you need to tell me what you want to hear, because if I tell you the truth – _my_ truth – then you will not believe me."

"I don't know what I want to hear," Airëlus replied softly. "Whatever you say, I will lose a brother. If you admit that you _did_ push him, then there is no way that I'll be able to even look at you again. However, if it turns out that Calaen is lying, then…"

"What do you wish to believe?" Legolas asked quietly.

Airëlus shrugged his shoulders helplessly, all the anger that had filled him before, diminishing. "I want to believe that _you_ are telling the truth, for if you did in fact push Calaen, then that is a greater crime than him lying."

"You may wish to believe me, but you do not." The golden haired Prince laughed bitterly. "You are taking his word over mine."

"Legolas-

"Just leave it, Airëlus. If you want to believe him, then so be it. The thing is, I thought you were different. Foolishly, I thought that you were someone I could turn to when things got hard. I thought you were the one who would always be there for me," Legolas snapped, getting to his feet and going to the door. "You are exactly the same as Calaen."

Airëlus jumped up and went after the other Elf. "That is where you are wrong. I am not lying in bed after nearly being killed by my own brother." He bit his lip as soon as the words were out.

The golden haired Elf paused momentarily in the doorway, trying to force away the hurt that he felt at such a statement. Hissing in anger, he stormed from the room, without another word to his brother. Airëlus ran after him and tried to hold him back. But Legolas merely shook him off.

"Where are you going?"

"To see Calaen," Legolas replied.

Airëlus was about to try and protest, but he swiftly decided against it as they reached his other brother's room. He did not know what to believe. On the one hand he had Legolas, who lied only to protect others, and would never intentionally hurt anyone. And on the other hand there was Calaen, who clearly disliked the youngest Prince of Mirkwood, and had no qualms about getting him into trouble. But would he really go this far? Airëlus doubted it.

Taking a deep breath, Legolas pushed open the door and walked inside. Calaen was lying in the bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, and a long scratch ran down the side of his face. Airëlus stood at the back of the room, watching the proceedings carefully.

Legolas put a hand on Calaen's shoulder, and the dark haired Elf's eyes suddenly flew open. He stared up at his brother for a few moments, apparently struggling to recognize him. But when realisation dawned, fear flitted across his face, and he hit the other Prince's hand away.

"Calm yourself," Legolas said softly.

"Airëlus, get him away from me," Calaen breathed. "Please, do not let him stay in here. He will do something, I know it."

The Crown Prince stepped forwards, and touched a hand to Legolas' shoulder. "I think it is for the best that you go. Just give him time to calm down, and then it will be alright."

"He tried to kill me," Calaen cut in, tears gathering in his emerald eyes.

"How can you accuse me of that? This was not my fault. If you had not provoked me, then I would not have tried to hit you," Legolas snapped. "It was your fault, Calaen, not mine."

The dark haired Elf closed his eyes and lay back on the pillows, tears falling from underneath his lashes. "Please Airëlus," he whispered. "I would not say this if there was no truth to it. He threatened to kill me, and he…he stood there and…and laughed as he threw me down the stairs."

"Legolas, get out," Airëlus said through gritted teeth. "Your presence is only worsening the situation."

"Why are you saying this?" Legolas asked in a low voice. "This is not him, and you know it full well. Use your head, fool! I do not have strength enough to push him down those steps, even if I wanted to!"

Airëlus grabbed the younger Elf, and pulled him to the door. "Can you not see the distress you are causing him? Now get out, and don't even think of trying to come back in here," he hissed, pushing Legolas out of the door. He cringed as his youngest brother hit the wall, but quickly shook his head.

"I am not lying," Calaen sobbed. "And he will do this again."

Airëlus sighed as he went back over to the bed. "No, I will make sure that nothing else happens," he said soothingly, drawing his brother to him.

"I wish that Ada was here. If he was, then none of this would have happened," Calaen whispered.

"I know, I know," Airëlus replied. "If you were not so afraid, then I would ride to Rivendell to get him. But I dare not leave you in this state. Do you wish for me to send a messenger?"

Calaen was silent for a moment. Of course he was not afraid of Legolas. What reasons did he have to feel fear where that pathetic little excuse for an Elf was concerned? And, the tears that were gathered in his eyes were not genuine. Far from it, in fact. He smiled inwardly, and pulled back from his brother's embrace. Airëlus had just given him an idea.

"Do not send a messenger," he said. "Will _you_ go to Rivendell? I know what I said before, but…of course I do not blame Legolas for this. He did not mean for it to happen. It was merely his troubled mind forcing him to do it."

"Are you sure you wish _me_ to leave?" Airëlus asked doubtfully.

"Yes, I am sure. If not for me, then for Legolas. Ada needs to be here in case he does something to harm himself," Calaen replied, brushing tears from his cheeks.

"I might be able to catch up with Ada, but I doubt it," the Crown Prince said slowly. "I will ride swiftly, though."

Calaen smiled weakly at that. "I appreciate this. You do not have to do this for me."

"I want to," Airëlus replied, pulling the other Prince to him once more. "You are my brother, after all, and it pains me to see you hurting like this. I cannot say how long it will be before I return with Ada, but I will make sure that you are not left alone. Will that reassure you?"

Calaen nodded, a nasty smile creeping over his face as he was held by the Crown Prince. As soon as Airëlus left, he could dismiss whoever it was that had been asked to stay with him. No-one needed to know that he was not afraid of Legolas. All that he had planned for his younger brother could be hidden from everyone else…

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	9. Deception

Later that night, Legolas was lying on his bed, waiting for Airëlus to come in and see him. He was unaware that his brother had in fact left the palace hours ago. He was also unaware that Calaen had spent many hours telling the palace guards, servants and healers that in no uncertain terms were they to come anywhere near the Royal Family's private rooms.

Turning onto his back, Legolas sighed deeply, and stared up at the ceiling. He wished that Thranduil had not left. He wished that he could turn back time so that the argument he and his father had had remained non-existent. He wished that so many things in his life could change. But he knew they would not.

He bit down on his lip as a sudden idea flew into his mind. He could leave Mirkwood and ride to Rivendell. It was the only thing for him to do, he realised. He could not stay where he was hated by those who were supposed to love him, and blamed for every single thing, big or small, that went wrong.

Sighing deeply, Legolas got off the bed and went to the window. Night had fallen, and stars were dotted all over the sky, twinkling down at him. He smiled vaguely. At least they offered some comfort. He gazed up at them for a moment, before turning and going over to his cupboard. He opened one of the doors, and pulled out a dark travelling cloak.

As he pulled it across his slender shoulders, the Prince's gaze fell on the leaves that still lay where they had landed on the floor, after being thrown by Airëlus earlier that day. He sighed, and knelt down to pick them up gently. He ran a finger softly across the faded red leaf, and smiled sadly.

"I am sorry for everything," he whispered. "I did not mean for any of this to happen, Naneth."

Shaking himself mentally to break out of the reverie he was falling into, Legolas tucked the leaves into his tunic pocket, and quickly left the room. He knew that the longer he tarried in Mirkwood, then the harder it would be to leave. As he walked down the dimly lit corridors, he paused outside Airëlus' room.

He strongly considered going into his brother and telling him that he was leaving, and would not be stopped. However, he shook his head and carried on walking. That was a mistake on his part though, for as he rounded the corridor, he came face to face with Calaen. The dark haired Elf's bandage had been removed, and he looked nearly as healthy as he had done before the fall.

"Are you going somewhere, little brother?"

"Get away from me," Legolas hissed, trying to walk past.

Calaen however, flung out his arm and slammed his hand against the wall, blocking the younger Prince's way. "Why do you try to push me away? I am only trying to look after you and keep you safe. Just like Naneth would have wanted."

Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "This isn't you. Why are you playing with me?"

"You really are quick to judge, aren't you? I do not see why you should think I am playing," Calaen said silkily. "It is like I said: I merely want to look after you. I promised Airëlus that I would."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked softly. "Airëlus has not gone."

"I can assure you he has," Calaen replied. He took a step towards his brother, and smiled. "So you see, it is just you and me here, alone."

Legolas shook his head – he would not believe it. "Airëlus has not gone," he said shortly, turning on his heel and going back up the corridor to his eldest brother's room.

"Think what you want," Calaen murmured.

The golden haired Elf pushed open the Crown Prince's door, praying that the room would be occupied. His prayers were unanswered though, for it was empty. Exhaling deeply, Legolas went to the cupboard and looked through the various robes and tunics in there. The travelling cloak akin to the one he wore was gone.

Running a hand desperately through his hair, he turned around and scanned the walls, the floor, the bed, the chairs, the desk, everywhere, for Airëlus' knives and bow. They were gone. Legolas closed his eyes tightly, and exhaled deeply. He was alone. His father had gone, his eldest brother had gone.

"This cannot be happening," he breathed.

"You see? I was telling you the truth," Calaen said from the doorway. "You really should learn to trust me. After all, I am your brother."

"Airëlus is not here," Legolas whispered.

Calaen smiled sympathetically as he came forwards to touch a hand to the other Elf's shoulder. "I am sorry. He has gone to Rivendell. But why should that worry you? I am here, after all, to take care of you, and make sure that you do not…get into trouble."

"What are you going to do?" Legolas snapped, hitting his brother's hand away, and going to sit on the opposite side of the bed, back turned. "Whatever it is, do it now, and get it over with."

"What makes you think I am going to do anything?" Calaen asked, feigning hurt. "Do you really think I have enjoyed causing you such pain? No. I want to right my wrongs, Legolas."

The young Prince closed his eyes and shook his head. "You are my brother, Calaen, and one of the only things that I have ever wanted for nearly my whole life, is to have your love. I know how you feel about me."

"No, you don't," Calaen cut in. "Can we not just forget all that has happened?" As he spoke, he sat on the side of the bed closest to the door; not once taking his eyes off the other Elf's turned back.

"I cannot forget it," Legolas snapped.

Calaen sighed, and ran a hand through his dark hair. "This is all I have wanted for so long. Will you not forgive me? It is all that I ask of you."

"How do you expect me to forgive you?" Legolas demanded. Still he did not turn. "You have no idea of the pain that you have put me through."

"There is…something that you should know," Calaen began hesitantly. "I do not expect you to believe me, and I will understand if you do not. But Legolas, before you were born, Airëlus treated me awfully. I know what it is like."

A flash of anger crossed the young Prince's face, and he clenched his fists. "Do not say that about Airëlus. He would never do that. He is not like you."

"Like I said, I do not expect you to believe me. But the only reason I treat you in the way that I do, is because it is a way for me to vent the pain and anger that I have previously felt," Calaen said. _'Valar, forgive me for lying about Airëlus, and using him as part of this,' _he thought desperately.

"I find it hard that you can speak in such a way about your own brother," Legolas said coldly.

"Well, that is the way in which you speak about me. How is it any different?" Calaen asked.

"I…you…" Legolas broke off, and sighed deeply. Turning his head slightly, he locked eyes with the dark haired Elf, before looking back out of the window. Confusion flitted across his face.

Calaen reached out, and put a tentative hand on Legolas' shoulder. The younger Prince flinched, but did not move away. "I was able to forgive Airëlus. Can you not forgive me?" he asked softly.

Legolas turned back towards Calaen, and nodded slowly. He locked eyes with his brother, but this time, he did not drop his gaze. But there was something wrong. Hidden behind the emerald orbs, there still seemed to be a hint of malice. He dismissed it, though – this was a chance for him to rebuild the relationship that he and Calaen had once had. The relationship they used to have, before everything had changed. It was all he had wanted for so long, and now…

"I am sorry," Calaen said softly. "I am sorry for everything." He reached out and pulled his brother to him in a tight embrace. The younger Elf tensed slightly, but relaxed again almost immediately.

As he held Legolas with one arm, Calaen slipped a hand into his tunic pocket, and silently drew out a piece of cloth. And as he did so, he moved the hand that was resting on his brother's shoulder up a bit, as though he was making to comfortingly stroke the golden hair.

But Legolas suddenly cried out as a sharp pain shot through him. "What are you doing?"

Calaen smiled as he grabbed the other Prince's hair, forcing his head down to the pillows. "You are a fool if you really believed my words," he hissed.

Legolas tried to fight back, to get free, but he was pinned so tightly that it was impossible. His eyes widened in horror as Calaen brought his other hand down. He held the piece of cloth, and he clamped it firmly over his brother's mouth and nose, cutting off his breath.

The young Prince tried to jerk away as the sweet smell of the drug hit his senses, but Calaen only held him down tighter. The last thing that Legolas saw before falling unconscious, was the evil smile on his brother's face.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	10. Captivity

Calaen stood silently in the shadows, watching his victim impassively. After Legolas had lost consciousness, he had been carried into his own room, and tied up. He lay still, wrists bound above his head to the bedposts. Three hours had passed since he had last been awake, and his elder brother was becoming impatient.

"Wake up," Calaen murmured, taking a few steps forwards.

He sat down in a chair next to the bed, and from his pocket, pulled out the cloth that he had used to push the younger Prince into darkness. Though, maybe he had pushed him too far. The herb covering the cloth was used a sedative, and although it had caused Legolas no pain, it had been enough to knock him out for a good while.

Calaen threw the cloth onto the desk and leaned forward, sighing deeply. He rested his head in his hands for a moment, before reaching out and touching his brother's forehead. "Not long now," he said softly. Legolas' temperature had risen drastically to start off with – an effect of the herb – but now it was almost back to normal.

The golden haired Prince stirred slightly, a shadow of fear passing over his face. He was beginning to come out of darkness, and already he could sense that something was not right. He felt something digging into his wrists, and a smooth hand resting on his forehead. He did not like it. Suddenly, his eyes flew open, and he quickly tried to sit up. But he drew in a sharp breath as realisation dawned that he was bound.

"Calm yourself. Why do you always want to rush off somewhere?" Calaen asked softly.

"You," Legolas hissed, trying to sit up again. "You lied to me."

The older Prince rolled his eyes at that. "Nice observation there. Yes, I lied to you, and you fell for it. You have only yourself to blame for that."

"This is not happening. This is all just some…some evil joke that you are playing on me," Legolas said slowly, scanning the room anxiously. "I will not believe that this is real."

"You should. You did not believe me when I told you that Airëlus had gone," Calaen reminded his brother. "I spoke truly, did I not? And I speak the truth now: this is no joke."

"Valar help me," Legolas breathed.

Calaen let out a low laugh and gently stroked the younger Elf's hair, causing him to recoil in fear and disgust. "You can pray to the Valar as much as you want, little brother. You can shout for Airëlus, and you can scream for Ada. But no-one will come. No-one will hear your cries of pain."

"No," Legolas whispered, struggling against the bonds.

"You fight a losing battle. You should give up now, because the only way that you will be free, is if I choose to free you myself. But I cannot see that happening," Calaen smiled. "Stop struggling, Legolas."

The golden haired Prince shook his head defiantly and continued in his quest for freedom. He pulled at the restraints, but there was nothing he could do. He was tied with strong Elven rope, and the only thing that he did was cause the bonds to tighten as he moved. But he would not give up.

"Stop struggling," Calaen repeated, his eyes flashing. When Legolas paid no attention to his order, he lunged forwards and struck him across the side of the face. It was over a trivial matter, but not being listened to made him angry, _very_ angry.

Legolas grimaced, but showed no other signs of discomfort. He looked up at Calaen, and glared at him furiously. "I believed you. Every single word that came out of your mouth was a lie, and I believed them all."

"That is because you are a fool," Calaen said carelessly.

"You cannot keep me here, tied up," Legolas hissed. "Ada has not gone for very long. He will be back soon, as will Airëlus."

Calaen nodded slowly. He had not thought about that. He had been so caught up in his own twisted plans, that the matter of his father and elder brother had entirely escaped his mind. He bit his lip anxiously as he threw his eyes down to meet his captive's. But then a thoughtful expression crossed his face, and he smiled.

"What now?" Legolas asked warily.

"I have no more than a week with you," Calaen replied. "I do not want to kill you. Not straight away, at least. You will die eventually, though. When you are dead, I will bury your body in the forest. Ada and Airëlus need never know."

"I think they will notice that I am gone," Legolas said coldly.

"I meant they need not know that it was me who killed you," Calaen snapped.

The young Prince closed his eyes in despair. "If you are going to kill me, then why not do it now? Why not just get it over and done with?" he asked slowly.

"There is no fun in that," Calaen said brightly, happier now that he had sorted his plans.

"I have spent so many years knowing that you hated me, but never did I imagine that…" Legolas shook his head angrily. "You are sick, you are evil, and you are twisted."

Calaen inclined his head, and smiled. "I _am_ glad that you think that. You have no idea how frustrating it is, having to hide yourself. For nearly my whole life, I have had to push my true colours away so that no-one would ever see who I really am. I have been waiting for this day for so long. If I was found out, then all chances of killing you would be gone."

"Tragic," Legolas snapped. He sighed deeply as he locked eyes with his brother. "Calaen, you do not need to do this."

"Do not tell me what I need to do!" the dark haired Elf hissed. He jumped to his feet and grabbed a pewter candle holder from the desk, eyes flashing in a moment of anger. "You think yourself to be better than me."

"I never said that," Legolas replied, trying not to look at the flickering flame. "I-

In one swift movement, Calaen was standing at the top of the bed, holding the candle close to his brother's cheek. "You had no need to speak the words, for it is written all over your face. But how would you like me to write something different on that pretty little face of yours?"

"Calaen-

"Shut up!" the Prince screamed, spinning around and slamming the candle holder back down onto the desk. He turned on Legolas and threw his fist into his stomach, each assault worse than the last. Although, it was not until the fourth blow that the victim cried out.

"Please-

"You did not like that, did you?" Calaen said dangerously. "If you think that is bad, then you should start preparing yourself for what is to come."

Legolas' eyes flickered in fear, and he drew his knees up to his chest to try and calm the burning pain in his ribs. Without warning, Calaen suddenly pulled a knife from his belt, and held it between his brother's wrists. The golden haired Elf started struggling again, as he felt the cold blade against his skin.

"Stop that," Calaen ordered. Legolas shook his head and continued trying to pull himself away. "I do not like having to say things twice."

"You cannot keep me here," the captive spat. He was quickly silenced by a fist being thrown into his face, and he winced as he felt his lip being split under the pressure.

Calaen leaned down and grabbed Legolas' chin, forcing him to look up. "I told you to stop struggling. If you do not listen to me, then I may have to reconsider my decision to untie you. It is up to you. Either you calm down and I cut the ties, or you carry on like this and your wrists remain bound. Choose." When the younger Elf lay still, Calaen nodded. "I take that to mean you choose the first option."

The dark haired Prince released his brother, and began cutting the rope. As that was being done, Legolas scanned the room quickly, searching for anything that he could possibly use to help himself. There was not very much. But as he looked, his eyes fell on the door, and he wondered what his chances of escape were.

"Do not even think about it," Calaen said softly, looking up from his task and following his brother's gaze. "You would not have got very far anyway – I locked it."

Legolas instantly looked towards the balcony door, but his captor laughed. "Also locked. Did you honestly think I would be so stupid as to forget something like that? No, you are staying in here. And I would get used to it if I were you. After all, these four walls are all that you'll be seeing for the last week of your life."

As the ropes around Legolas' wrists fell away, he jumped to his feet. The pain in his ribs caused him to stumble slightly, but he caught his balance. "Why did you untie me?" he asked slowly.

"Oh, I am not _entirely_ cruel at heart," Calaen replied, taking the candle once more from the desk, and stepping closer to his brother. "Would it not be just a little unfair for me to have complete power over you? You see..." He trailed off, and a look of excitement crossed his face. "Yes, that is it."

"What do you have planned?" Legolas asked in a hushed voice.

"It would not be a surprise if I were to tell you. But do not worry. You will find out in a while. Besides, good things come to those who wait. Well, maybe not to you." Calaen smirked as he took another step forwards.

Legolas' eyes flashed, catching the light of the burning flame. "Tell me! If you are going to do something to me, then all I ask is that I know what it is. Please, you are going to torture me enough."

"You read my mind," Calaen laughed. He locked eyes with his younger brother for a brief moment, before lunging out and grabbing him by the wrist. He pulled him close, and held the candle just next to his arm.

Legolas closed his eyes as he felt the heat through his tunic sleeve. "Do not do this," he said softly.

"There is nothing that you can say which will change my mind," Calaen said coldly. And then without a moment's hesitation, he pushed the candle flame against his brother's arm, gripping him tightly to hold him in place.

Terror flashed through Legolas' silver eyes, and he cried out in pain as the fire burned away at his skin. He tried to hit Calaen's hand away, but the intensity of the heat shocked him so much that he instantly dropped his arm back to his side. As quickly as he had started though, the dark haired Elf moved the candle away.

"Are you well, Legolas?" he asked, feigning concern. "You have gone somewhat pale."

The younger Prince closed his eyes and stepped back, stumbling slightly. His head was spinning. He would have fallen if not for his brother's tight grip on his wrist. Calaen knew this, but he took no pity - he let go of him and pushed him roughly away. He sank down to the floor and cradled his injured arm against his chest.

"You disgust me," the dark haired Elf spat. "Do you know why you disgust me? Because you are weak. You are cowardly, pathetic and weak. You are a disgrace to this family, and always have been. Even when you are long dead, Elves will shudder to mention your name inside the palace walls."

"Don't," Legolas whispered.

"I'm so sorry," Calaen said sarcastically. He knelt down next to the injured Elf, and grabbed some golden hair in his fist. "Is the truth too much for precious little Legolas to hear?"

The younger Prince closed his eyes tightly, in the hope that both the pain and the words would be blocked. Also, he refused to show his brother that he was hurting. That was what this was all about – trying to hurt him. Well, he would not give Calaen the satisfaction. But suddenly, without warning he was dragged to his feet, pulled by his hair, and he could not help crying out.

"You need help to do everything. You cannot even stand on your own," Calaen muttered, as Legolas swayed slightly on the spot. "Alright, I think we should play a game. What say you?"

The Prince straightened up and narrowed his eyes. "Yes, we will play one of your games. I do not know what it is, but I know that I will not let you win."

"Admirable sentiments," Calaen nodded. "So, this game that I have prepared is called 'Guess the Word'. Do you know how to play it?" He spoke as though he were an adult explaining something exciting to a child.

"Unfortunately, no," Legolas replied. "Are you going to enlighten me?"

"Most certainly," Calaen said, inclining his head. He reached into his pocket and drew out an arrow, smiling as he twirled it in his fingers. "Now, I will think of a word and draw it in the air, and you must guess what it is."

Legolas relaxed slightly, though he could not quite understand what point there was to this exercise. It sounded very much like a game that he used to play as an Elfling with his eldest brother. Airëlus would write a word in the air, and if the child could not guess correctly, then he would be tickled mercilessly.

He smiled briefly at the memory, but it quickly faded as he realised with a horrible jolt what Calaen's intentions were. "Valar…" he breathed.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	11. Deadly Game

Legolas swallowed nervously, eyes not once leaving the arrow still being twirled deftly in his brother's fingers. He wouldn't. Surely there was not enough hate and malice in Calaen's soul? Raising his silver eyes to meet the green ones in front of him, the young Prince clenched his fists, determination crossing his face.

"I trust you are aware of the consequences should you fail to guess correctly?" Calaen asked.

"I am hoping that if I fail to name the correct word, then I miss a turn," Legolas replied. "But it is you making the rules, so I imagine that this is different to any other game."

Calaen smiled, and paused momentarily in the twirling of his arrow. He resumed it a moment later though, and he looked almost bored. "Firstly, if you fail to guess the word drawn in the air, then that word will be engraved onto your body with this arrow. That might make you concentrate more. Secondly, there is only one player in this game. That is me."

Legolas turned away and closed his eyes tightly. He felt sick. "Valar, how can you…?"

"Shall we start then?" Calaen asked. Not taking his eyes off his brother, he wrote something in the air: it was a single downwards stroke.

"I…" the younger Prince said softly, pressing a hand to his burnt arm. A wave of fresh pain swept through him, and he flinched as many different coloured lights flashed in front of his eyes.

Calaen's face fell, and he looked disappointed that Legolas had guessed correctly. Still, they were not even halfway through the game yet. Without speaking, he raised his hand once more and swiftly wrote something else, ending in a flourish. This time though, it was two separate words.

"Am a…" Legolas muttered, leaning back against the wall as he swayed on the spot.

"You are not supposed to guess it right!" Calaen snapped, jumping forwards. Raising the hand that held the arrow, he struck his brother across the face, causing a long crimson gash to appear on his cheek.

"I did not know that that was part of the game," Legolas said softly. As the added pain washed over him, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest, and looked up warily.

Anger flashed through Calaen's eyes, and he threw his booted foot into the younger Prince's face. "Silence!" he hissed. "Let us see if you can guess this last word."

The kick that he had received sent Legolas' head snapping to the side, and he visibly grimaced as blood began to fall down his face. He was rapidly losing vision; the whole room was spinning around him, and he wondered vaguely how long it would be before he once again lost consciousness.

Calaen took a step backwards, and wrote the final word in the air. He smiled triumphantly as Legolas blinked – there was no way that he would be able to guess correctly now. Even though there was really only one word it could possibly be, the state that the young Prince was in meant that he would have no chance.

"Well? Tell me what it is," Calaen said softly.

"I…I did not see," Legolas breathed, fear shooting through him as he eyed the arrow.

"You did not see?" the dark haired Elf laughed. His eyes danced with a manic glee. "Did you not listen to the rules of the game?"

Legolas ran his tongue nervously across his lips, and stood up with great difficulty. He felt that there was more safety to be had standing than down on the ground. He reached out a hand and placed it on the wall, trying to keep himself steady as his brother stepped towards him, a nasty look on his face.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," Calaen said. "Either you do not struggle, and it is over with quickly. Or you_ do_ struggle, and just make it worse for yourself. It is up to you."

"No. I will not let this happen to me," Legolas said softly. He took an unsteady step forwards, but Calaen struck out, catching him in the ribs. As the young Prince doubled over in pain, the older one took it as the perfect opportunity to throw his fist into his face.

Legolas hissed and jumped to the side. His long hair was falling into his eyes, along with blood from earlier assaults. His vision was momentarily obscured, and he saw nothing but darkness as his legs were kicked out from under him. He tried to get up, but Calaen jumped over and touched a foot to his chest, holding him down.

"You agreed to play the game, so you must abide by the rules," he hissed. He dropped the arrow to the floor, so that he could pull off the tunic and light blue shirt that Legolas wore.

The Prince inhaled deeply and tried to reach out to grab the arrow, so that he could use it as some form of defence. But his terroriser merely laughed and brought the heel of his boot down on his hand. Legolas bit his lip and tried to pull away, but Calaen ground his foot down harder, smiling as he felt bones breaking beneath him.

"What does it take to teach you?" he asked. He dropped down to the ground and knelt beside his brother. Taking the arrow and putting it back into his pocket, he pulled off Legolas' outer tunic. After throwing it to the other side of the room, he started to undo the clasps on the blue shirt.

"Don't do this," Legolas breathed, trying desperately to jerk away.

"If you don't stop that, then I will tie you up again and we can do it _that _way!" Calaen yelled. "Do you want that?"

"No," the younger Prince whispered. "Cal, this is wrong. Please, do not-

"Shut up," the dark haired Elf spat. He pulled the arrow from his tunic pocket, and without even a moment's hesitation, moved it down towards his brother.

Legolas closed his eyes tightly and laid his head back on the floor as he felt the sharp point coming to rest on his abdomen. Fear crossed his face, and he had to bite down on his already split lip to stop himself from screaming when his captor dug in and began 'writing', if writing it could be called.

Calaen was cruel and merciless, pushing the arrow point into his brother's flesh, and dragging it ruthlessly through the skin. He ignored the fact that Legolas was shaking uncontrollably. The only thing that was fixed on his mind was that he had to cause as much pain as possible to his younger brother.

"That was the first letter," he said conversationally. "Do not worry. There are only…let me see….oh, seven left."

Legolas tried to sit up, but the movement just pushed the arrow further into his stomach. His breathing became faster and faster, and fresh tears pooled in his eyes. Not only were they tears of pain, but they were also tears of disbelief – disbelief that his own brother could do this.

He could feel the blood all over his stomach, could feel it rolling down his side and pooling beneath him. Clenching his fists, ignoring the broken bones in his left hand, and slamming one down onto the ground, Legolas cried out. But he wished he had not – he had not wanted his pain to be seen.

"**Daro** Calaen," he sobbed. "**Saesa….saesa daro.**"

"Oh Legolas, do not say that," the dark haired Elf said soothingly. "I cannot stop when I am only half way through the word." He reached up a hand, and brushed away a lock of hair from his brother's blood stained face.

Legolas jerked his head to the side, and rested his cheek on the floor. "**Daro**," he whispered.

"Oh stop crying, there are only two letters left," Calaen snapped. He smiled vaguely. "That's a pity. I like this game."

As work began on the penultimate letter, Legolas felt his eyes beginning to close, and even if he had wanted to, he would not have been able to do anything about it. He cried out as Calaen moved his hand particularly quickly, and the room began to spin around him.

"Ada…" Legolas breathed. "Ada, please help me. Please…"

"How touching. Little Legolas is crying for his Adar. Well, he is not coming!" Calaen spat. He jerked the arrow free and embedded it a little further on, so that he could complete the destruction that he had started.

Legolas blinked, trying to regain his vision. Everything was fading, and Calaen's face above him was slowly going out of focus. His eyes closed, but that did not prevent the tears falling from under his lashes. In his unseeing state, he was dimly aware of somebody knocking on the door.

Calaen cursed as he realized that there was someone outside, and he swiftly ended the word, finishing the letter with a sharp flourish, causing Legolas to cry out in pain. Shooting his brother a venomous look, he reached up a hand and clamped it over his mouth, silencing him.

"I am going to the door so that I can get rid of whoever it is," he said in a low voice. "If you even think to make one noise, then I will make you wish that you had never been born. You understand?"

Legolas nodded once, wishing that he was already dead. As Calaen jumped to his feet and crossed the room, the young Prince stuck his hand into his mouth to stifle his sobs, though his body was still wracked with them. He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes. He could barely see, and the blood that covered his body did not help. But when he managed to make out the word that had been engraved into his flesh, he nearly cried out again. But he held himself together. He had to.

The door closed, and Calaen came back to the middle of the room. "You make a lot of noise, little brother. Too much noise, in fact. One of the servants was on a lower floor, and she heard your screams."

"She…she heard me?" Legolas breathed, a flicker of hope in his slowly darkening eyes.

Calaen smiled at that. "Yes, but I have explained it all away. I am afraid that you can no longer be allowed to draw attention to us. You must be tied back up, and gagged this time."

Those were the last words that Legolas heard, before falling unconscious for the second time in one day.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**Daro……………Stop**

**Saesa daro……..Please stop**


	12. Revelation

Elrond Peredhil, the Noldor Lord of Rivendell, shot Thranduil a sympathetic glance, as he sighed deeply and ran his hands anxiously through his hair for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day. The Elven-king had left Mirkwood four days back, and was impatiently waiting to get back there. He wondered how his children were faring.

"What troubles you?"

Thranduil started, and snapped his eyes across to meet Elrond's. "What? Oh, nothing. It is just a small problem that I may be making too much out of. But…oh, I may as well tell you. It is Legolas."

"Go on," Elrond said, unable to keep the concern from his voice. "What is wrong with him?"

"I do not know. But he has changed, and not for the better. Did I tell you that he attacked Calaen the other day?" Thranduil replied. "And then he did some work for me, only to rip it up upon finishing."

Elrond arched an eyebrow, surprised. "Indeed? That is strange. Legolas does not resort to violence. And as for the ripping of his work…well, there is no sense to that."

"I know. Like I said, I may be making too much out of something trivial," Thranduil sighed. "This never happened with Calaen and Airëlus. And, what of the twins? Did _you_ ever have problems? And with Estel? He is Legolas' age."

"Well, you know what Elladan and Elrohir are like. They have always caused trouble," Elrond replied, looking out of the window to where his three sons were quite clearly plotting another joke.

"That may be so, but all they do is play irritating tricks on unsuspecting Elves. They have never hurt anyone," Thranduil said.

"I have never had any real problems with Estel. He has his faults, but, who does not?" Elrond replied.

"If something is troubling Legolas, then I would have him tell me," the Elven-king said vehemently. "When I questioned his trust in me, he said that he still _does _trust me. But if that is so, then why would he hide anything from me?"

Elrond shook his head slowly. "Maybe he…maybe he feels threatened by something. Or some_one_. Maybe he is afraid."

"But who would he feel threatened by?" Thranduil snapped. "Children have no enemies. Besides, I can think of no-one who would wish to hurt him."

"No, but he has told you nothing, so you cannot know," Elrond said softly. He paused, as his sharp hearing caught the sound of hoofbeats not far away. Then he smiled, and turned back to the King. "You are worried about Legolas, I see that. You should return to Mirkwood."

"But what about…?"

"Do not worry about the meeting, we can hold it without you being here," Elrond replied. "Besides, you would be of little help to us. Glorfindel tried to hold a conversation with you earlier, but he would have got more response if he had talked to the door."

"I am sorry," Thranduil said, smiling vaguely. "I greatly appreciate your offer, but are you sure you can do without me?"

Elrond nodded, but did not reply verbally. A horse had just clattered into the courtyard, and he glanced out of the window, intrigued as to who the newcomer was. As the rider jumped to the ground, the Elven-lord visibly started. But he regained his composure, and turned back to the other Elf.

"Is there a problem?" Thranduil asked mildly.

"No. No problem at all," Elrond replied. "I am merely interested to know why one of your children is in Rivendell instead of Mirkwood."

"What?" The King made to rise to his feet, but the elder Elf waved him back down.

"It is Airëlus. He will be here soon enough," Elrond said. "He saw me at the window."

Sure enough, no sooner had he said that, the door swung open, and the Crown Prince of Mirkwood ran into the room. He looked as though he had been riding for days without stopping, and as he was embraced by his father, he leaned against him for a moment, using the other's body as a support.

"What is it? What has happened?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Calaen," Airëlus breathed. "He fell down a flight of stairs, but he claims to have been pushed by Legolas. Ada, you must come home."

The Elven-king's eyes widened in shock, as he tried to take in what he had just been told. His youngest child would never do that. He would not believe it. Yet, he could not doubt Airëlus' words. He shook his head and turned away, mind spinning wildly with muddled thoughts and emotions.

"Ada, please," Airëlus said desperately, mistaking the gesture as a refusal to return to Mirkwood. "We need you there. I cannot cope on my own, for I no longer know what to do. Calaen claims that he was pushed, but Legolas protests his innocence. I do not know who to believe."

"We will leave now," Thranduil replied.

"If you need me at any time, then all you need to do is send me a message," Elrond told the other two Elves. "I will come straight away. Airëlus, your horse must be tired. Take one of the twins'. They will not mind."

Airëlus inclined his head as a way of thanks, waiting impatiently while Thranduil pulled on his cloak. Grabbing his bow and quiver of arrows from the side of the room, the Elven-king shot Elrond a last grateful look, before turning on his heel and swiftly leaving the room. His son was not far behind.

The Lord of Rivendell closed his eyes briefly. That family had been through enough. It seemed never-ending for them. "May the Valar watch over you all," he murmured.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he started as he realised that he still could see nothing. Realising that he was blindfolded, he relaxed slightly – at least his vision was not slighted for any other reason. He tried to move, but found that once again he was tied, and unable to get free. As he struggled slightly, a pain shot through his stomach, and he grimaced as he felt a sticky substance on his body. He knew what it was.

"Ah, you have finally awakened."

The Prince snapped his head to the side at the soft words, realising too late that he would be unable to see who had spoken. But of course, there was no need for him to lay eyes on them. Who else would it be but Calaen? If there was anyone who could save him, then he would be free by now. But he was not. He wondered if he would ever be free.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Legolas asked in a low voice.

"Two days," Calaen replied. "It was getting rather tiresome, as I did not know whether you would wake up in time. In fact, I did not know whether you would wake at all."

"In time for what?" Legolas asked. _'Please, no more torture. Just let him kill me now and get it over with,' _he thought.

Calaen laughed softly to himself. "Fear not. I will not hurt you. At least, not yet. The pain will come eventually, but now I want you to listen to me. There are things that you should hear. You must know why I have done this."

"It would be nice," Legolas replied.

"I was going to tell you just before your death. But then I was struck with a horrible idea: you might die before I got around to telling you. So you must find out now, just in case." Calaen smiled, leaving the sentence hanging.

"Go on," Legolas said softly.

"Have you ever wondered at the fact that my appearance is different to yours?" Calaen asked.

"Of course not. We are not twins, so why should we look the same?" the golden haired Prince replied.

"But I am the only one in the whole family who has dark hair and green eyes. Airëlus looks a lot like Naneth, and you look a lot like Ada. You have his hair, and his eyes. Airëlus has Naneth's hair and eyes. But me? What do I have?" Calaen questioned.

Legolas blinked in surprise – he had never thought about it before. But his brother was right. "So that is why you are doing this to me? You are jealous because of the differences in our appearances?"

"Be silent!" Calaen snapped. "I am doing the talking, not you!"

"Alright," Legolas said quickly. "Alright."

The dark haired Prince sighed deeply. "Years ago, I went down to Ada's study one morning, because I had to return a book that I had finished reading. I was about to push open the door, but when I heard my name mentioned, I stopped. The one talking was Airëlus, and he spoke of hearing rumours around the campfire whilst on patrol. Do you know what rumours those would be?"

"No," Legolas said softly.

"They were rumours about my parentage," Calaen replied. His voice was cold, but there was a noticeable hint of sadness in it. "Airëlus questioned this, and…and do you know what he was told?"

Legolas shook his head slowly. "No."

Calaen drew in a deep breath to try and calm himself. "I had to stand in the shadows and listen whilst Airëlus was told that I am not his brother. I am only a half brother to both of you."

"That is not true," Legolas said. "How can it be?"

"Shut up!" Calaen shouted, slamming a fist against the wall. He ran a hand through his dark hair and got to his feet, only to begin pacing up and down in front of the bed. "Thranduil is not my father by blood. I am the son of a mortal man."

Legolas opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was overcome by both shock and disbelief, and he shook his head slowly, trying to understand what he had been told. Calaen was…Thranduil was not…a human? But how could…? No, it was not possible. He refused to believe it.

"Do you believe me?" Calaen asked softly.

Legolas exhaled deeply, wondering how to answer. "I…I do not know. I mean, it does not make sense. You _are_ my brother."

"No. I am only your half brother, and the fact that my blood father is a mortal, makes me half Elven," Calaen replied. "It is up to you if you believe me or not, but I know that I tell the truth. When Airëlus was but an Elfling, a man came to Mirkwood. He was injured, so he was allowed to stay in the palace. After a few months, he was still here. He and Naneth…"

"No," Legolas breathed. "She would not do that."

"She did. You can even ask Ada when he arrives," Calaen replied. He smiled vaguely as he realised what he had just said. "Sorry. I forgot that you will not be here then. But take my word for it: Naneth and this human lay together."

Legolas shook his head, blinking back hot tears. "But she was not like that. How can you say such things? I will not believe it."

"That is your choice," Calaen sighed. "When Ada found out what had happened, he banished the man from Mirkwood – or Greenwood, as it was then – under pain of death. But one night, he was found still in the forest. Despite being banished, he had not left."

"What happened then?" Legolas asked.

"The man was executed. Naneth found that she was with child. Ada accepted what had happened," Calaen said shortly. "I am grateful to him for that."

"But who was this man?" Legolas pressed.

"His name was Deorfel. That is all that I know, and all that I _wish _to know," the dark haired Prince replied. "One would expect Thranduil to get rid of me. It would make sense, me not being his son by blood. But he has not."

Legolas bit down on his lip, and shifted restlessly in the bonds he was still held in. "But I still do not understand why you should want to do this to me."

"Surely you can understand now?" Calaen asked. "This is not just about Naneth. No, it is because I am the blood son of a human, and you are not. They love you more than me, Legolas. How can you not see that?"

"Because there is nothing to see," the younger Prince said slowly.

"No. No, that is where you are wrong." Calaen shook his head violently. "Airëlus has always made Ada proud. He commands a troop of Mirkwood's finest warriors, our people look up to and respect him, he is a perfect Crown Prince. And you…you are the youngest out of all of us, Ada's little Greenleaf, his golden child. What am I? Answer me that!"

"You are his son," Legolas replied. "He is proud of you, that I see."

"No. I am nothing!" Calaen spat.

The bound Elf closed his eyes behind the blindfold. "I am sorry. I did not know that you felt like this."

"Sorry? You are sorry? Oh, that just makes me feel a whole lot better. Do you think that 'sorry' makes everything alright?" Calaen demanded. "Well, you _will_ be sorry. Soon enough."

Legolas grimaced and shook his head sadly as he heard his captor storm from the room. The dark haired Elf was angry, and when he got angry, it was the youngest Prince of Mirkwood who he vented his rage on. What pain he felt always had to be inflicted on his brother.

Legolas knew that his time was running out…

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	13. Worst Kind of Torture

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. More and more hours passed, and Legolas remained unaware that it was in fact forty eight. He was still tied on the bed, blindfolded and gagged once more. Calaen had come in once, and that was only to administer the gag. He had left shortly after, and had not yet returned.

Behind the blindfold, Legolas closed his eyes. He was in great pain, both physical and emotional. Every so often, the pain was so excruciating that he felt himself slipping into darkness. But he refused to succumb to it. He worked hard to keep away from that oblivion, but his resilience wearied him. Though, he would not sleep. He would not give Calaen the satisfaction of seeing weakness.

The door suddenly flew open, and Legolas flicked his eyes to the side of the room. He knew that it would be his elder brother, but he could not help praying that it would be someone, anyone, who would come and rescue him from this torture. His prayers were in vain though, as he had expected.

"You have a guest," Calaen said, as he closed the door behind him. He smiled cruelly – this would break his younger brother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Two days had passed since Thranduil and Airëlus had departed from Rivendell, and they had ridden hard, pausing only for brief moments in order to let their horses refresh themselves. But they were getting close to the palace, maybe only twenty minutes away. They would not stop again.

"Fear not, Airëlus." Thranduil had to raise his voice above the thundering of their horses' hooves. "We are close now."

"I know," the Prince replied. "But who knows what may have happened in the time that we have been absent?"

"But you posted guards outside Calaen's room, is that not correct?" Thranduil asked. "Your brothers are safe."

Airëlus nodded, but he felt far from relaxed. Something _had _happened. He knew.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

As Calaen came further into the room, Legolas strained his eyes, trying to see through the blindfold and catch a glimpse of his 'visitor'. But all he saw was darkness. To make up for his lack of sight, the young Prince listened, though what he heard made him narrow his eyes suspiciously – there was only one set of footsteps.

"He has travelled a long way. From Rivendell, in fact," Calaen informed his brother. "I did not think he would come, for you are not worth the trouble. But here he is."

Legolas started when he felt a hand on his wrists. He was not going to be harmed – at least, not yet – for he was being untied. Calaen looked down into the younger Elf's face, and smiled malevolently. Out of everything he had done so far, he would enjoy this most of all.

When the ropes were pulled away from his brother's wrists, the dark haired Elf grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. Legolas made a noise of pain as he was pulled off the bed, and to the foot of it. He was pushed roughly to his knees, and just when he thought that he was free from the ropes, his wrists were tied again to the bedposts. But this time, the gag was pulled from his mouth, and thrown across the room.

"Calaen, who-

"It is good to see you, ion-nin," Calaen cut in. But the voice was not his own. "However, I did not expect to see you in conditions such as this: tied up, injured, helpless. But I think that I prefer it this way."

"Ada?" Legolas snapped his head up in horror. "Ada, is that really you? But why…? What are you…?" He trailed off and shook his head. No. Thranduil would never say that.

Calaen smiled briefly, and knelt next to his brother. "Yes, it is me," he said softly, turning the younger Elf's face towards him. "You look shocked, ion-nin. But why so disbelieving?"

The only thing that Legolas could do was shake his head and strain his eyes, trying desperately to see his 'father's' face. He could not, _would_ not believe that Thranduil had just spoken such words. But in his current state of mind, the thought did not even occur that his brother was once again using his talents as a means of torture.

"Speak!" Calaen hissed, raising a hand and striking Legolas. "What is the matter? You are not afraid of your own father, are you?"

"I am not afraid," the captive breathed. "Ada, please. Will you not untie me?"

The dark haired Elf laughed, surprised that his brother had actually fallen for this. "But why should I untie you? There is no point in that. You see, it was I who asked Calaen to do this."

"No," Legolas whispered.

"Yes," came the malicious reply. "You need to feel pain, little Greenleaf. Calaen has worked well for me, but then I realised that I was missing out. _I _wish to be the one to kill you. And believe me, I will."

Legolas felt his heart skip a beat as his sharp hearing caught his 'father' removing the leather belt that hung around his waist. Calaen snapped it, and smiled as his victim visibly flinched. He trailed it across the younger Prince's back, and his eyes glinted. For his brother to have 'Thranduil' tell him all the things that he did not want to hear…well, it would be damaging. No. More than damaging. It would destroy him.

"Peace," Calaen said soothingly.

"Ada, please," Legolas breathed, trying to pull himself from the bedposts.

"Like I said before, you need to feel pain. It is no more than you deserve," the dark haired Elf replied. He raised his arm high in the air, and held it there for a few seconds. But then without warning, he brought it down, cracking the belt cruelly over his brother's back.

The shirt that Legolas wore was not thick, and it was no hard job for the leather to cut through it. The young Prince grimaced as the first lash was dealt, but he swallowed down his fear, and held his head high. He would take this, and show no pain. And as he told himself to be strong, the belt came down five more times. He did not flinch until the last blow.

"Impressive," Calaen murmured. "But when will you cry for me?"

'_I will not cry,' _Legolas thought.

Irritated that all he got from his victim was a mere flinch, the dark haired Elf struck the younger Prince at least ten times more without pausing – at least, he _thought _it was ten. He was not exactly counting. As he looked down, he smiled. Legolas' shirt was ripped into shreds, and his back was covered with red welts and lacerations.

"What is wrong with you? Why will you not cry?" Calaen hissed, switching back into his own voice. He reached forwards and pulled the blindfold away, and as he and his brother locked eyes, he smiled gleefully.

"Ada…" Legolas breathed, trying to turn his head.

Calaen caught the younger Prince's face, and held him still. "So, you are not so brave after all," he said softly, taking in the silvery tears in his captive's eyes, and the blood on his lip that had been caused by being bit down on.

"Why…? Why is he doing this?" Legolas whispered, closing his eyes. Though that proved to be a mistake, for the tears escaped their prison, and slipped down onto Calaen's fingers.

The dark haired Elf smiled as he blindfolded his brother once more. He coughed lightly to adopt the voice of Thranduil, and went to stand behind Legolas once more. "You are not like your brothers and I. You are weak - weak and pathetic."

"Why Ada?" the Prince breathed.

In answer, Calaen raised his arm and began to beat his brother, watching impassively as the blood began to run down his back. Legolas clenched his fists, digging his nails as hard as he could into the palms of his hands as each fiery stroke came down upon his abused body, each lash causing a new one to appear above an old.

"Please-

"You ruined my life and tore my family apart," Calaen growled. "If it were not for you, then my wife would still be alive. You have done nothing but cause damage to us."

"No-

"Silence!" the dark haired Elf screamed. "I have hated you from the moment you were born. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you would be a disappointment. You would fail your family, your country, yourself."

Legolas cried out, not bothering to even try and prevent the tears from flowing. He had done all that he could to stop their escape, but to hear these words from his father was just too much for the young Prince to bear. He wanted to die. He would rather die than have all of this abuse thrown at him by one who he loved, one whom he thought returned the love.

"I have never loved you. And do you know why that is? Because you are a murderer. You could do nothing to gain my love, so you killed your mother! That's why you did it!" Calaen hissed. He paused in his cruel beating to push some hair from his eyes.

"No Ada," Legolas sobbed. "I did not murder her. I did not mean for her to fall. Please..." He broke off and rested his head against the wooden bedpost he was tied to, body shaking.

"You are a murderer. What are you?" Calaen asked. When all he got was silence, he dealt his brother five more lashes. "Tell me what you are!"

Legolas drew in a sharp breath, and let it back out again quickly. He wanted to die. He wanted nothing more than to die. And he would do just that. He would let go of his life, if it meant that he was spared from admitting that he was a murderer.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....

Airëlus breathed a sigh of relief he had not known he held as he and his father jumped off their horses and ran up the palace steps. Both were exhausted, even with their Elven stamina, but their desire to see Legolas and Calaen, to find reassurance that they were safe was what drove them on.

Thranduil pushed open the palace doors and ran through the corridors, the fact that there were no servants or advisors around barely registering in his mind. But as heard screams and yells from one of the higher floors, he froze in his tracks and stared upwards, as though trying to see what was happening through the ceiling.

"Ada, what is going on?" Airëlus whispered, confusion flashing through his blue eyes.

The Elven-king shook his head helplessly. "Valar knows. Come."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You _will_ say it," Calaen murmured. He had not yet switched back to his own voice. "Tell me what you are. Finally admit what you are, and then I will stop. It is as easy as that."

Legolas inhaled deeply and screwed up his eyes, searching for strength he was beginning to doubt that he had. "Never!" he spat.

"Then you will feel more pain," Calaen said carelessly.

"Beat me as much as you like!" Legolas hissed through sobs of pain, as the cruel punishment continued. "I will never say that. Hurt me, torture me. I do not care any more. But you will never force me to admit to something like that. Never!"

Anger flitted across Calaen's face, and he curled his lip in disgust. "You are scum! You are filth!" he screamed. "You do not deserve to be called an Elf! You are a disgrace to the Elven race!"

The pain was excruciating, but despite that, Legolas sighed in relief. His vision was becoming clouded, and it would not be long before he was rescued. He only prayed that this time, it would be more than unconsciousness that he succumbed to. He prayed for death. He prayed for the end of his life.

As Calaen hit his brother again, the door to the room suddenly flew open, and hit the wall with a bang. He snapped his head up, and stared in horror at the newcomers. In his shock, he dropped the belt to the floor, and the sound was horribly loud in the deadly silence. Not once did his eyes leave his father and elder brother.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	14. Supposed Betrayal

Calaen shook his head slowly, hoping that when the next second came, the two Elves in front of him would disappear, and he would realise that his mind had been playing games with him. But that did not happen. He lowered his eyes to where Legolas was still tied, and he swallowed nervously. Blood had pooled around his brother's beaten body. His hair hung around his face, and it was only the ropes around his wrists that prevented him from collapsing.

"What have you done, Calaen?" Thranduil hissed, as he dropped to the ground next to his youngest son. "What have you done?"

The dark haired Elf shook his head, and held his hands up defensively. "No, this was not me. I found him like this, I…"

Thranduil made a noise of anger and made to attack his son, but Airëlus beat him to it. In one swift movement, the Crown Prince had grabbed the belt from the floor, and struck his brother across the face with it. His blue eyes flashed furiously, and he leaned forwards to grab the front of Calaen's tunic.

"We saw you with this in your hands!" he shouted. "How can you deny it?"

"Airëlus, get him out of here," Thranduil snapped, as he pulled the blindfold from Legolas' eyes. "Lock him in his room, and then come back here. I will need bandages and medicine."

The Crown Prince nodded once, and, grabbing his brother by the arm, he dragged him none too gently from the room. Calaen went without a fuss – he was not fool enough to even_ try_ and fight back. He knew full well that there would be enough trouble for him as it was.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas was dimly aware of his blindfold being removed, and his bonds being cut. His eyes fluttered a little as he was lifted into strong arms and carried over to the bed. He wanted so much to look up into his rescuer's face, but the pain would not allow it. And, what if it was no rescuer? More than likely it was another one of Calaen's games.

He flinched inside as he felt a hand stroking his hair. He heard someone speaking soft words to him, but the state he was in made it impossible for him to focus properly on anything. His eyes fluttered briefly again, and whoever it was with him, grabbed his hand. He silently thanked the Valar that it was not the one with broken bones.

"It is alright, ion-nin. I am here now," Thranduil said softly, brushing golden hair from his son's cheek. He had seen the word that so cruelly marked Legolas' body, and when first had laid eyes on it, had nearly been sick. But he had forced himself to calm down, so that he could be strong for the young Prince.

Legolas took a deep breath, and snapped his eyes open. His gaze landed on the Elf in front of him, and he shook his head slowly. "Please Ada, no more," he breathed.

Concern flitted across Thranduil's face, but he continued to soothingly stroke his child's hair. "You are safe now. No-one is going to hurt you."

Instead of being calmed, Legolas hit his father's hand away, and jumped from the bed. That proved to be a mistake though, for as soon as he moved, the room spun around him, and lights danced in front of his eyes. This was not fair. Why should his life and this torture be prolonged, when all he wanted was death?

Thranduil drew in a sharp breath and leapt forwards as his son fell. But he managed to catch the Prince before he hit the floor. "By the Valar…" he muttered. "Legolas, please calm yourself. I will not hurt you, and neither will anybody else. You must sit down, for you are weak."

It had taken Legolas all of his remaining strength not to fall apart, but at his father's last words, he broke down. "Please, stop this. Stop playing these games with me."

"I am playing no games with you," Thranduil replied, startled. "Ion-nin, you have been badly injured, and the last thing that I want to do is cause you further pain."

"No," Legolas whispered. He glanced down at the Elven-king's hands on his shoulders, and shook himself free. "Do not touch me like that. I have been put through enough, though the pain that came from you was worse than anything else. Please, just kill me now, if you are going to do it."

Thranduil stepped back, stunned. "Legolas, what do you…? I do not-

The door was suddenly thrown open once more, and Airëlus ran into the room. In his arms he carried numerous herbs and bandages, but as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, he threw them into a chair, and darted forwards to embrace him. Tears stung his eyes, and he was not ashamed to let them fall.

"Legolas, I am so sorry," he whispered. "Valar, please forgive me. I should never have left you on your own."

Legolas locked eyes with his father briefly, though he was quick to lower his gaze again. He buried his face into Airëlus' shoulder, feeling slightly safer in his elder brother's protective arms. Thranduil however, was confused and hurt. He did not understand why his youngest child felt such fear at him, and flinched at his touch.

"Come, Legolas. You must let us examine your wounds," Airëlus said softly, pulling away from the embrace and helping his brother to the bed. "Ada will tend to you, alright? You can grip my hand if…" He trailed off as the younger Prince shook his head violently.

"Please, do not let him," Legolas whispered, as he sat on the bed.

Airëlus shot Thranduil a quizzical look, before turning back to his brother and brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "But why not? Ada is skilled at healing, and he knows full well what he is doing."

Legolas bit his lip and nodded once, as he drew his knees up to his chest and hugging them tight. Letting Thranduil tend to his injuries was the last thing that he wanted to do, but having said that, he feared the anger of the Elven-king. Valar knew what else he could do.

Thranduil relaxed slightly, though confusion still flashed in his eyes as he picked up a wet cloth from the pile that Airëlus had dropped. He shot his eldest son a look of despair that was immediately returned, before sitting on the bed behind Legolas and pushing the golden hair across his son's shoulders.

"There is Athelas on this cloth," he said softly. "I am sorry."

Athelas stung at the best of times, but with the young Prince's back covered in so many bloody welts and lacerations, it would surely burn him with a fire so fierce, that it may well have come from Mordor itself.

"You will be alright," Airëlus said softly, reaching out and taking his brother's hand. He started though, as the younger Elf cried out and pulled away. "What is it?"

"It is broken in places," Legolas said distantly, cradling his hand against his chest.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed at the words, and he felt very much like kicking a large hole in the wall. But he forced himself to calm down – he _had _to be strong. He lowered the cloth and pushed it over the inflamed welts, cringing as Legolas drew in sharp breaths. Inflicting further pain on his son was the last thing he wanted, but this task was unavoidable.

Tears gathered in Legolas' eyes, and as the Athelas fell into his bloody wounds, he jerked forwards, away from his father. Airëlus caught him by the shoulders and held him still, speaking softly to him in Elvish. He did not know what was being said, though. All he concentrated on was getting through this pain.

"I am sorry, Legolas," Thranduil said. "I know it hurts, but I am not doing this for any reason other than to heal you." He took a deep breath before wringing the cloth out over his son's back.

"Don't," Legolas whispered, letting his head fall forwards to rest on Airëlus' shoulder. Tears fell freely from his eyes, but this time he did not stop them. He did not care any more. What should it matter if Thranduil saw another show of weakness from him?

Airëlus closed his eyes as he stroked his brother's hair. "Peace, Legolas. It will be over in no time. Do you understand what Ada said? Do you understand that this must be done?"

The young Prince made a slight movement with his head, and as his wounds were doused once more with the Athelas, he cried out, clenching both fists. The broken bones in his left hand screamed at him to relax, so that they could be relieved of the agony, but he ignored the pain. He had to.

"Alright, I am nearly finished," Thranduil said softly.

Airëlus glanced across his brother's shoulder, and looked into his father's glistening eyes, though he pretended not to notice the tears. He knew how hard this was, and he also knew that the Elven-king would rather cut his own throat than put his child through such pain that could be avoided.

"Do you wish to swap places?" he asked. "I will do that."

"Thank you," Thranduil said quietly.

Legolas started as Airëlus' face was replaced by his father's, and he tried hard not to let himself fall into the arms that he had once known to be loving. But as the cloth was rubbed over his back once more, the Prince could not help but lean forwards. And as he felt himself being held by the King, he was powerless to do anything about it.

"You are doing so well," Thranduil murmured.

"No more," Legolas whispered.

"I have finished now, anyway. All that is left for me to do is to bandage your wounds and then see to your hand," Airëlus said, moving the blood stained material out of sight, and producing a long strip of white cloth.

Thranduil smiled briefly as he felt his son relax against him. Still he did not know why the Prince had spoken such words, or acted in the way that he had, but it seemed to be alright now. Legolas seemed to have calmed down, and realised that his father was not the enemy.

But how wrong the King was…

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	15. A King's Wrath

Thranduil looked over at Airëlus and smiled briefly, though his eyes spoke clearly of the anger and frustration that he felt. He had run things over in his mind numerous times, and still was undecided about what to do. He had always sworn that if ever one of his sons were to be harmed, then he would kill the one who had caused them pain. But what now? What was he supposed to do with Calaen?

"Ada, you must go to him," Airëlus said softly. "You cannot put it off for much longer."

"I know. But I do not wish to leave Legolas on his own. Not yet, anyway," Thranduil replied. Not long after work had started on his hand, the Prince had again fallen unconscious.

"You will not be leaving him alone. I will be with him," Airëlus reminded the King. "This may sound selfish, but I am so glad that it is you who must deal with Calaen, and not me. I would not know what to do."

Thranduil sighed as he reached down and lifted his youngest son into his arms. "I do not yet know what I will do when the time comes to see him. But that time will come later. First of all, we must move Legolas."

Airëlus threw his gaze down to the bed, before turning on his heel and following his father from the room. He felt sickened. His brother's white sheets were stained a mix of red and green – red from his blood, and green from the Athelas. _That_ was something the Crown Prince had never thought he would see.

"Do you really not know what you will say to Calaen?" Airëlus asked, as he caught up with the King.

"I really do not know. I suppose we will just have to wait and see what happens when I get in there," Thranduil replied darkly, instinctively tightening his hold on Legolas and shooting a nasty glare towards Calaen's door as they passed it.

"Ada…" Airëlus began. But then he shook his head dismissively. "No."

Thranduil glanced sideways at his son. "If you have something to say, then go ahead."

"Well…" the Crown Prince started, as they climbed the marble stairs which led to the King's private rooms. "I do not…I mean…You should not get too angry until you have heard all that Calaen has to say. You have a short temper, Ada, and you…" He trailed off at the look on his father's face.

"What would you have me do?" Thranduil hissed, kicking open the door which led to his sleeping chambers. "Would you have me sit down with him, and discuss this whole thing quietly?"

Airëlus sighed deeply as he looked into his younger brother's pale face. "I am not saying that, and you know it. Just listen to Calaen's story before you beat him to the ground."

"As you wish," Thranduil said shortly, going over to the large bed and laying Legolas down on it.

"Do not be angry," Airëlus said softly. "I know how much your heart is hurting at the moment. I feel your pain, Ada, and it is only natural that you should wish to-

The Elven-king turned around and held up a hand. "Yes, alright. I will try and keep my temper in check. You will not leave Legolas?"

"Of course not," Airëlus replied.

"Very well." Thranduil exhaled deeply, and took a final look at his youngest son. "I suppose I must go now and see Calaen."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Calaen paced nervously in his room, twisting his hands together as he walked. He was afraid. He had not been afraid like this for many years, and when he _had _been, he had always been loath to admit it to anyone. But now though, he would gladly shout it in front of the whole of Mirkwood, if there was a chance of escape from this situation.

A key suddenly clicked in the lock, and Calaen spun around as the door flew open and slammed against the wall. King Thranduil entered the room and kicked it shut behind him, cold eyes not once leaving his dark haired son.

"Legolas is unconscious," he remarked conversationally. "After you left, Airëlus and I washed the blood from his back, though to be honest with you, it does not look much better now. And then there are the three broken bones in his left hand. An explanation is needed, I think."

"His hand, I…" Calaen lowered his eyes to the floor. "I stamped on it."

"Oh, did you? Interesting. And, why did you do that?" Thranduil asked. His voice was calm, but inside he was screaming. "Before you speak, I have some advice for you. It is this: tell no lies, Calaen. I will see through them."

'_You never have before,' _the Prince thought.

"Go on," Thranduil said.

"You have my word that I will tell nothing but the truth," Calaen said. "I am sorry for everything that I have done, and I am more than sorry for the pain that Legolas went through at my hands. But I thought that I was doing the right thing."

Quicker than lightning, Thranduil had leapt forwards and grabbed the front of his son's tunic. "The right thing? My youngest child is suffering because of you! Legolas was afraid of me, Calaen. He was _afraid _of me, and flinched at my touch. You did that!"

"I am sorry, I really am. But you have said so many times that as Legolas is a child, he is still young enough to be punished for his wrong doings. I disliked his behavior, and felt it only right to punish him," Calaen said. "I was doing what I thought that you would."

"Do you really think that I would inflict such pain upon one of my own children?" Thranduil demanded, shaking the Prince. "How dare you even _think_ to say something like that? What you have done is disgraceful. No Elf should _ever_ treat another like that."

Calaen pulled himself away from his father's grip, and took a step back. "But I did not mean it to go as far as it did. You must believe you."

"Why should I? I saw what you did. That…that word," Thranduil spat. "Of all the things that I have ever seen or heard in my life, that is the lowest, the most disgusting. What possessed you to do something like that?"

Calaen opened his mouth to defend himself, but his eyes flashed maliciously, and he was suddenly overcome with a desire to reveal a few home truths. "If you are so desperate to know, then I will tell you. The word 'murderer' now marks your precious Greenleaf's body, because that is what he is. He killed my mother. And if Legolas was not so weak, then he would have been able to take the pain. Oh, and I suppose you wish to know why he is now afraid of you? Well, I borrowed your voice for a while. He is under the impression that _you_ were the one hurting him."

Thranduil blinked in surprise – he had not expected that. His expression remained impassive for a moment, and just as he sensed Calaen starting to cool down, he swung a fist into his face. The Prince gasped and held a hand to his cheek, but the display of pain only seemed to anger his father. The Elven-king grabbed him, and threw him against the wall.

"Ada, stop!" Calaen breathed.

"There is no reason why I should!" Thranduil hissed.

"You said just a minute ago that you would never inflict pain upon one of your own children, yet you have no qualms about hurting me," Calaen snapped.

"You are Legolas' brother, yet you clearly had no qualms about hurting him!" Thranduil yelled, unable to stop himself from striking the Prince again. He laughed scornfully at the shock on Calaen's face. "You called Legolas weak, but from where I stand, it looks to me like _you_ are the weak one."

"Ada-

Thranduil silenced his son by grabbing the front of his tunic, and pushing him against the wall. "Yes, I swore that I would never hurt one of my own sons. But this is something which I cannot forgive. Your mind was fixed on killing Legolas, wasn't it? He is safe now, but he is afraid of one who he should be able to trust with his life!"

Calaen looked into his father's eyes and swallowed nervously, wondering what was going to happen. If any Elf of Mirkwood hurt Royalty in such a way, then the penalty would most certainly be death. King Thranduil was more than severe where the safety of his children was concerned. But what would he do when the one who had hurt his youngest child, was his own son?

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	16. Goodbyes

Legolas' eyes snapped open, and he stared wildly around the chamber he was in. That was strange; he was not in his own room. And he was not tied up. And his wounds had been bandaged. He sat up with a start as he realized that he was in his father's room, though he immediately wished that he had remained lying down, for pain had just torn through both his chest and back, despite the heavy bandages wrapped around his body.

He looked around the room once more, searching warily for Thranduil. Luckily, the King was not there, though that did nothing to take away Legolas' unease. He was alone again, unsafe and vulnerable. More than anything, he wanted Airëlus. The Crown Prince would most definitely keep him safe against Calaen or Thranduil.

As he tried to force his thoughts away from his father and dark haired brother, Legolas' sharp hearing caught the sounds of a heated argument coming from one of the Royal corridors. The voices were both familiar, and although they made him sick with fear, there was some unseen power that made him push back the covers on the bed.

'_No,' _he told himself silently. _'Do not go. Just stay here. Nothing good can come of this.'_

But holding a hand against his bandaged stomach to try and still the pain, the Prince swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as unpleasant sensations swept through his body. He ignored it though, and made his way unsteadily to the door. Of course he expected it to be locked, so when it opened, he was more than surprised. That surprise did not stop him though, from leaving the room, and following the voices.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Do not do this," Calaen said softly.

"Do you really think there is anything _you_ can say which will convince me otherwise?" Thranduil hissed. Of course he would not kill his son – that was unthinkable.

"Please. I will leave Mirkwood and never return, but please do not do this," the dark haired Elf pleaded. But even as he spoke, he realized how pathetic he sounded, and he was angry with himself for that. He should not be afraid. After all, had his true power not been shown in the past week?

'_Ah, but you were only powerful because your victim was weaker and younger than you. Your victim was unable to fight back, and you played off that,' _a small voice in the back of his head told him.

Thranduil sighed deeply, and shook his head. "I want to know why you did it. What could make you so angry that you would want to hurt your own brother in such a way? Tell me that, Calaen."

"I have hated him for a long time," the Prince muttered. "I have hated him ever since Naneth died, but I kept that hidden. And when I found out about the human, I-

"Do not bring this up again," Thranduil snapped. "What happened in the past should have nothing to do with the present."

"But it does," Calaen said coldly. "You see, finding out about my blood father only increased my hatred towards Legolas. For years now, I have been filled with a desire to only hurt him, and cause him pain. There. You know now."

"Well, you have certainly hurt him!" the Elven-king hissed. Then he paused, and shook his head sadly. "There was no need to blame Legolas. For anything."

"And why should I not?" Calaen demanded. "He has _always_ been the special one, and you know it. I only ever wanted the love and attention that you give him."

"Yes, maybe I spoil him, but you had that when you were his age," Thranduil replied. "He is still a child, Calaen, whilst you are an adult. Do you _want_ me to treat you like a child?"

"No, but-

"I thought not," Thranduil cut in. "Did you really think that he is more special to me than you and Airëlus? That is not so. I loved all three of you as much as each other."

"Loved us?" Calaen asked softly. "Not love?"

"I have loved you since the day that you were born," the Elven-king sighed. "But I cannot allow you to remain in Mirkwood."

"You are banishing me," the Prince whispered.

Thranduil shook his head slowly. "No, but I am asking you to leave. It will take a long time for Legolas to heal, emotionally as well as physically. You have hurt him more than you know, Calaen. You cannot stay here, not whilst he is healing. I wish it did not have to be this way. But there is no other choice."

"I understand," Calaen said quietly. "When do you want me to leave?"

"As soon as possible," Thranduil replied. He could not believe that he was sending one of his own children away. And if he was honest with himself, he was not even sure if it was the right thing to do. But he was spared from further contemplation by the door swinging open, and his eldest son running in.

"What is it?" he demanded. "Has something happened to Legolas?"

"No," Airëlus replied. "I am sorry for leaving him, but I had to find out what was going on. He is still asleep."

"Calaen is leaving Mirkwood," Thranduil said slowly, as the dark haired Elf pulled on a traveling cloak. "It is impossible for him to stay here."

"I understand," the Crown Prince said. His voice was cold, but inside he could not help but feel a little sadness. "It is what he deserves."

Calaen nodded slowly at his brother's words. "I will go now. I know that both of you hate me at the moment, and I do not blame you. But I hope that one day I can return here."

"Yes, you can return. But _I_ decide when," Thranduil replied. "If you were not my son, then I would kill you without a moment's hesitation."

Calaen fixed the King and Crown Prince with a cold stare as he picked up his bow and went to the door. "And if given another chance, I would kill Legolas without a moment's hesitation."

"How dare you!" Thranduil hissed.

Airëlus put a restraining hand on his father's shoulder. "Leave it."

Calaen smiled briefly, locking eyes first of all with his brother, whose face remained impassive, and then with the Elven-king. The two stared at each other, neither willing to be the first one to look away. Sparks flew from eyes of both blue and green, and just when the tension was becoming almost unbearable, the Prince spun on his heel, and left the room.

As he stormed up the corridor, he shook his head angrily. He was of the Royal Family of Mirkwood, yet he had just been ordered to leave his own palace! But his temper died down slightly as he looked up and saw Legolas. The younger Elf stared at his brother in horror, nothing but fear preventing him from moving.

"Well, I did not think that I would be seeing you _this _soon," Calaen said softly. "I told Ada a minute ago that I would kill you if given another chance. There is nothing to stop me from doing it right now. What do you think?"

Legolas took a deep breath, forcing his fear away. "I think that you should kill me. Like you said, there is nothing to stop you from doing so. What are you waiting for? I am weak and you will have complete power over me, so it will be an easy task. If you are so desperate to see me dead, then do it. Kill me now, Calaen."

"I…what?" the dark haired Elf asked, taken aback at his brother's answer.

"You heard," Legolas replied softly.

Calaen stared at the younger Elf, unable to believe what he had just heard. He had strength and power, there was no arguing that. But inside, deep down, he was weak. He preyed off the lack of control that others possessed, so when they showed fighting spirit, he himself had to fight to regain control. This time though, he was spared.

Legolas was able to hold the emerald gaze for only a few seconds, before his head erupted in sudden pain, and he fell back against the wall. He gasped and put out a hand, trying to steady himself, but everything spun, and unwillingly, he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.

"What is wrong with you now?" Calaen asked, watching in amusement. "You spoke bravely, little brother, but did you really think that it fooled me? Take a good look at yourself, and tell me what you see. Braveness? I certainly do not. All that I see is weakness."

Legolas closed his eyes, trying to block out both the pain and the words. The agony in his head was unexpected and had caught him off his guard, and he wished desperately that he had fought against it, and remained standing. Down on the ground, he was vulnerable, easy prey for his brother.

"You can never win," Calaen said softly. He took a step forwards, but spun around as a sharp voice from down the corridor reached his ears.

"What are you doing?"

"I was saying goodbye to Legolas," the dark haired Elf informed his father and elder brother. "There is no harm in that."

"Airëlus, take him down to the courtyard, and have him taken to the borders of the forest," Thranduil ordered his eldest son, as he knelt beside his youngest.

"Would it be better if you took him?" the Crown Prince asked doubtfully. He looked down at Legolas, taking in the trembling of his brother's body. "I do not think that-

"No! You will take him," Thranduil snapped. His expression softened slightly at the look on his son's face. "Please. Just take him."

Airëlus nodded, and grabbed Calaen by the back of his tunic, forcing him to walk. As they passed, the dark haired Elf looked down at Legolas, and smiled. The young Prince shuddered and drew his knees up to his chest, making sure that his eyes remained lowered. He did not wish to watch even his torturer's retreating back.

"Did he hurt you?" Thranduil asked softly. He sighed deeply as there was no answer. "Please. Will you tell me if he hurt you at all?"

"No, he did not," Legolas whispered. He was silent for a moment, but then he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the stabbing in his head. "Why should you care if he hurt me? I don't understand why you are being like this." There was a hint of desperation in his voice that he tried but failed to hide.

"I-

"You only sent Calaen away so that he would not kill me, and you would be able to do it yourself," Legolas snapped, turning to leave. His arm was grabbed though, and as he was pulled back around, fear flashed through his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Thranduil said quickly. He paused, and touched a hand to his son's shoulder. "Calaen adopted my voice whilst he hurt you. I am so sorry that you…" He trailed off as Legolas shook his head violently.

"Don't do this. Have you not done enough? Not only did you accuse me of killing Naneth, but you also…" The Prince shook his head again in confusion and desperation, before pulling himself away, tears in his eyes.

Thranduil had to blink back his own tears as he watched his youngest son running back up the corridor. He did not know what to do. Legolas had been hurt in the worst possible way, and he knew that it would take a lot of patience, trust and time to heal him. But the Elven-king did not know if he could do it on his own.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	17. Rejection

Legolas lay on his father's bed, running things over in his confused and hurt mind. He was not quite sure why he had returned to Thranduil's rooms, but he knew that there was something comforting about being there, despite what he was feeling. Ever since he had been an Elfling, the Prince had always gone up there if he had been afraid or unsure of anything. It had always seemed a haven to him, a place of refuge, safety.

**Begin Flashback**

The small Elfling tore along the dark corridor, golden hair flying behind him as he ran around a corner. Legolas knew full well that he was not supposed to be out of bed at such a late hour, but he was horribly scared, and wanted someone, anyone who could offer him comfort.

"Go away," he whispered, jumping nearly a foot into the air as thunder sounded outside, echoing through the palace halls. The noise seemed to be worse out here than it had been in his own room.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs which led to the King's private chambers, Legolas hesitated. He was supposed to have permission to go up there, and if he went up without any, then surely his father would be angry. But another clap of thunder made up the child's mind, and he bounded up the stairs. It did not matter that he would get into trouble – at least he would be safe.

After what seemed an age to him, the little Prince was at the top of the stairs, and outside his father's room. Taking a deep breath, Legolas pushed open the door and ran inside. He was afraid that the King would not be there – sometimes he worked very late in his study. But no, Thranduil was asleep in the large bed, his face half covered by loose hair.

Another crash of thunder sounded and lightning illuminated the room. Letting out a cry of fright, Legolas ran forwards and dived onto the bed. The Elven-king sat up with a start, immediately on the defensive. But he blinked in surprise when he saw who the intruder was.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked sharply, pushing some hair out of his eyes.

In reply, Legolas threw himself against his father, and buried his face in his chest. His body trembled as rain crashed against the windows, and the room was momentarily lit up. Thranduil looked down in surprise, and wrapped his arms around the frightened child.

"What is it, Greenleaf?" he asked softly. When there was no answer, he moved back a little so that he could look into his son's face. "Has something happened? Did you have a dream?"

Legolas shook his head and pointed outside with a trembling finger. "The noise. It won't stop, Ada."

"Do you mean the thunder? That will not hurt you," Thranduil replied.

"But it's too loud," Legolas muttered.

"Yes, it may be loud, but no harm will come to you from it. Besides, I thought that you wanted to be a warrior when you are older. Warriors are not afraid of thunder." The Elven-king concealed a smile as disappointment crossed his son's face.

"I _do_ want to be a warrior," Legolas said falteringly. "But some warriors are afraid of thunder, aren't they?" Even as he spoke, there was another crash, louder than any other that night. He started, but did not dive back to his father as he so wanted.

Thranduil smiled, and drew the Elfling to him. "Yes, you are right. Some warriors are afraid of thunder."

"Who?" Legolas asked.

"Well, I…I am not quite sure…" Thranduil sighed at the look he was being given. "Glorfindel. Lord Glorfindel is afraid of thunder."

"But Glorfindel is a fighter," Legolas said slowly. "How can _he_...? That's not very brave."

"No, but he defeated a Balrog, so I think that we can overlook his fear," Thranduil replied. He sighed inwardly. _'Valar help me. I have just told him that the legendary Balrog slayer is afraid of thunder. Maybe we can put off our trip to Rivendell this year. And next year also.'_

"Can I still be a warrior, then?" Legolas asked hopefully.

"Of course you can," Thranduil replied. "But make sure you tell no-one else of Glorfindel's fear."

"Why?"

'_Because I would prefer my head to remain where it is,' _the Elven-king thought. He smiled at his son, and said, "Because warriors never tell each other's secrets."

Legolas nodded. "Alright."

"Are you happy to go back to your own bed now, or would you prefer to…" Thranduil trailed off as the child dived under the covers. "I see."

Legolas smiled happily as his father lay down beside him, and drew him into his arms. "Aren't you angry that I came up here without permission?"

"Of course not. You can always come here to me," Thranduil replied, stroking the child's hair. "You are not afraid any more, are you?"

"No, because you are here and you can fight away all of the bad things," Legolas muttered, his eyes going out of focus as sleep took him.

The King smiled weakly at the words. His little son had so much faith in him, yet he knew full well that he would not always be able to 'fight away all of the bad things' as it had so innocently been put.

**End Flashback**

Legolas was pulled out of the past and back into the present as the door opened, and Thranduil came in, with Airëlus just behind. When his eyes met the King's, the Prince turned on his side, and faced the opposite wall.

"How are you feeling?" Airëlus asked softly.

When there was no reply, Thranduil went forwards and sat on the edge of the bed. "You must not shut us out like this," he said softly, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. He withdrew it though, when Legolas flinched. "You have been through a lot, and I understand that you will find it hard to trust again. But Airëlus and I are here to help you."

Legolas closed his eyes in despair, and drew in a deep breath. This was not right. It was not long ago that Thranduil had been beating him relentlessly, and hurling abuse at him, yet here he was, trying to correct everything that had happened, and heal the one whom he had done so much damage to.

"Please. All that we want to do is make you better," the Elven-king said. "I know what it is that you think, and I know how confused you must be. But if you would only speak, then the healing process will start."

"You do not even have to look at us," Airëlus said gently. "We can do whatever you feel comfortable with. It does not even matter if at fist you only speak a few sentences."

The young Prince nodded from his place on the bed. They wanted a few sentences? That was what they would get. "I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone."

"Legolas-

"I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone," he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Please, we can help you," Airëlus said.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Legolas snapped. "I do not need your help. Get out and leave me alone."

"Listen-

"GET OUT AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" the Prince screamed, pushing himself into a sitting position and facing his father and brother. He glared defiantly at the former, until the King stood, and went over to the door.

"As you wish, Legolas," Thranduil said. "Airëlus, come. We will get out and leave your brother alone if that is really what he wants."

The Crown Prince looked up in surprise. "Ada, should we not…?"

"No. Like I said, if that is what he wants, then we should go," Thranduil replied. He nodded at his eldest son. "Come."

"Alright," Airëlus said slowly, locking eyes with Legolas. "We will go." With that, he left the room.

The golden haired Prince stared at the closed door that his brother and father had gone out of, and sighed deeply. He really _did_ want to talk. He wanted answers to so many questions. But he was hurt. Not just physically, but emotionally also. It would take a lot for him to come out of the door that he had locked himself behind.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	18. Blame and Reassurance

Airëlus followed Thranduil into the study, a look of unmasked confusion on his face. He did not quite understand why they had left Legolas alone once more, for in his opinion, family and love was all that the young Prince needed. The King, however, clearly had other ideas. Though, he had not yet revealed them.

"I see that you are having difficulty comprehending what I just did," Thranduil said, sitting behind his desk and motioning for his son to also take a seat.

"Well, meaning no disrespect, but yes, I am," Airëlus replied. "Legolas has just spent a week alone and being tortured by one who should love him. He does not need us deserting him at this time."

Thranduil shook his head briefly. "Neither you nor I are deserting him."

"So why-

"We both know that Legolas was treated badly. But we do not know all that was done to him, we do not know all that was said to him," Thranduil replied gently. "As I have told you, Calaen adopted my voice. You know how good he is at impersonating others – he was always talented in that respect. But I digress. We do not know what he said and did to give the impression that I was the one…well, you know. But Legolas will not be ready to talk about such a thing straight away."

"But surely-

"I am sorry. Much as I despise doing it this way, we have to take things slowly," Thranduil cut in. "Do you understand?"

Airëlus sighed deeply and ran a hand through his fair hair. "Yes, I understand. But I hate to think of the pain that he is going through. I wish that our roles had been reversed, and I was the one that Calaen chose to torment."

"Legolas is a child," Thranduil sighed. "He was helpless and vulnerable. He proved to be easy prey."

"Calaen was a coward," Airëlus said shortly. He looked away as tears misted his eyes. "Ada, this is my fault. If I had not gone to Rivendell, then none of this would have happened."

Thranduil shook his head as he went to sit beside his son. "Do not blame yourself. You were not to know what Calaen was going to do. No-one was."

"I know, but I should not have left Legolas on his own," Airëlus replied, swiping at his eyes. "I should have told the guards that they were not to follow any orders given until you got back."

"Airëlus-

"I should have locked Legolas in his room and hidden the key," the Crown Prince went on, jumping to his feet and pacing up and down the room. "Even better, I should have locked him in prison. Maybe he would hate me for it, but at least Calaen would be unable to get to him."

"Airëlus-

"Why did I not take him with me to Rivendell? There are so many things that I could have done to protect him, but I did not. Now he is hurting and confused, and that is thanks to me. He feels as though he cannot trust us, and he-

Thranduil grabbed his son by the shoulders, and shook him. "Airëlus, stop that! It is bad enough that my youngest son will not speak to me and I have had to send my middle son away. You are the eldest, and the one that I rely on to keep me at least partially sane. I do not need this from you."

Airëlus stared at his father for a moment, before lowering his eyes. "I am sorry. But I cannot help blaming myself."

"Were you the one who tied and blindfolded Legolas?"

"No."

"Was it you who played sick mind games with him, leaving him emotionally damaged?" Thranduil asked.

"No, it was not."

"Was it you who beat him until he fell unconscious?" the Elven-king demanded.

"Ada, stop! Please!" the Prince cried.

Thranduil sighed, and touched a hand to his son's shoulder. "I need you, Airëlus, and so does Legolas. We _must_ help him, and I fear that you will be unable to if you are plagued by such thoughts. I am sorry for what I said, but I need to get through to you that you are not to blame."

"I am sorry," Airëlus muttered. He paused, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "There is something that I do not understand. You said that Legolas was helpless. Why? Yes, he is a child, but he trains with veteran warriors every day. You know that. Why did he not fight?"

"He was tied up," Thranduil said darkly.

"But how did that come to be?" Airëlus pressed.

"I can answer none of your questions," the Elven-king said gently. "Only Legolas can do that."

"May I go and see him? I think it is time that his bandages are changed anyway, and he might be a little more willing to talk," Airëlus said.

"I doubt it, but you can try," Thranduil replied. "Do not press him too hard."

As the Crown Prince nodded and left the room, the Mirkwood ruler rested his head in his hands, and tangled them in his hair. _He _wanted to be the one to comfort his youngest child, and tell him that everything would be alright. But he could not help doubting that himself.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	19. Cannot See What Is Real

Legolas tensed as the door opened, but he did not turn around. "Who is it?" he asked softly.

"It is only me," Airëlus replied. "I am alone. If you were worried about speaking in front of Ada, then you can relax. He is in his study, and will not come up here. Like I said earlier, it does not matter if you only speak a few sentences to start off with. But I would much prefer it if this time, they were not sentences ordering me to get out and leave you alone."

A brief smile flitted across Legolas' face, but that was all it was: brief. "What do you want me to say?"

"You just did say something. That was perfect," Airëlus replied.

The younger Prince sighed as he sat up to face his brother. "You want me to talk about Calaen."

"I do not really mind what we speak of," Airëlus shrugged. "There is an upcoming archery tournament. It is only in a few weeks, I believe. We could start off with that. Or how about…?" He trailed off when the other Elf shook his head.

"We both know that you have not come up here to discuss archery tournaments," Legolas said sharply.

Airëlus sighed, and leaned against the side of the desk. "I will not lie to you. I came up here to try and get you to talk about your ordeal. And yes, I am fully aware that you believe no help is required from Ada or I. However, I do not think that is true."

"What do you mean?" Legolas snapped.

"I mean that you _do_ need help. You _need_ to talk about what happened. If you think that shutting yourself away will help you at all, then you are wrong," Airëlus replied. "It will only damage you further."

"You cannot force me to talk," Legolas said furiously.

Airëlus pushed himself off the desk, and sat in front of his brother on the bed. "I am not going to force you to do anything. No-one will. Do you understand that Ada and I are not the enemy? All that we want is to see you happy again."

"But I don't understand," Legolas said, desperation pushing the anger from his voice.

"What do you not understand?" Airëlus asked gently.

The young Prince shook his head, and drew his knees up to his chest. "Why…he cannot…It just does not make sense."

"No, you are the one who does not make sense." Airëlus smiled, and touched his brother's shoulder lightly. "What are you talking about?"

"I do not see why Ada should want to help me. You were not there, and you do not know what happened. He beat me, Airëlus, and all the while he was telling me how much I was hated, and how I was a failure and a disappointment." Tears had begun to flow, but Legolas did not even notice. "He accused me of…"

"What did he accuse you of?" Airëlus whispered, fighting hard to keep back his own tears.

"He…he accused me of…of…I'm sorry, I can't. Don't make me!" Legolas wrapped his arms around his knees, and buried his face. Grief overcame him – saying the words out loud was worse than thinking them.

Airëlus shook his head, and pulled his brother close. "I will make you do nothing," he said softly.

"He called me weak and pathetic, and I tried so hard not to be," Legolas whispered. "But I could not help it. I cried, and that was what he wanted. I proved that his accusations were true: I _am_ weak, and I _am_ pathetic. Even now I cry. He was right."

"No, that is _not_ true," Airëlus replied, stroking his brother's hair. "Just because you cried then and you cry now, it does not make you weak. I can think of no-one who would not cry if they had been through the same ordeal. Feel no shame in your tears."

"But I don't know what's happening," Legolas breathed. "I don't know why Ada did that to me. I thought that…I don't know what I thought. But I did not know that he felt that way about me."

Airëlus sighed, and pulled away slightly from the embrace. "Ada did nothing to you, nothing at all. It was all Calaen."

"What…what do you mean?" Legolas asked quietly.

"Calaen was the one doing everything," the Crown Prince replied. "He adopted Ada's voice because…I do not know why he did it. We can only imagine his reasons. But _that_ is why you were under the impression that Ada was the one hurting you."

Legolas shook his head, confusion flashing through his silver eyes. "No, that is not true. You are merely saying this so that I will stop…No. It is not true."

"You must believe that I am telling no lies," Airëlus said desperately. "I was with Ada the whole time."

"You were with him? Then you…No, not you too," Legolas whispered, jumping off the bed. He swayed slightly, but forced himself to regain his balance. "Tell me it is not true. You were not with him. Tell me, Airëlus!"

"What is it?" the Crown Prince asked, stunned.

Legolas shook his head and took an unsteady step backwards. "Just tell me."

"But I _was_ with him. I rode to Rivendell to bring him back here. I have not left his side in the last few days," Airëlus replied.

"Then you were also part of it." Legolas closed his eyes in pain, but it was not his injuries that hurt him. He felt as though his heart was breaking. A shadow passed over his face, and he swayed once more. But this time, he did not regain his balance.

"No!" Airëlus jumped up and caught the younger Elf a split second before he hit the floor. He drew in a sharp breath as he looked into his brother's face. Legolas' eyes were closed, the rise and fall of his chest barely noticeable. Putting a hand to his forehead, the Crown Prince shuddered: it was stone cold.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Thranduil looked up in surprise as his study door flew open and slammed against the wall. Airëlus ran in, unshed tears in his pale blue eyes, fear and worry written all over his now white face. The Elven-king immediately thought a prayer to the Valar, asking for help.

"Ada, you must come," the Crown Prince breathed. "It is Legolas."

Not even bothering to waste time finding out exactly what was happening, Thranduil jumped up from his chair and ran from the study. His heart pounded painfully against his chest as all sorts of terrible thoughts entered his mind. He could not rule any of them out though, considering the situation.

As he leapt up the stairs which led to his private rooms, he was dimly aware of Airëlus running right behind him, but all that he concentrated on was getting to his youngest son before anything more could happen.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Thranduil ran into his sleeping chamber, straight across to the large bed where Legolas lay. The young Prince's golden hair was spread across his shoulders, and his long lashes lay upon his pale cheeks. One would think that he was merely asleep.

"What happened?" Thranduil demanded.

"I don't know. He was standing up and we were talking. When I told him that I had been with you for the last few days, he said that I was also part of it. By 'it', I can only guess that he meant his ordeal," Airëlus said quickly, watching his father press one hand to Legolas' forehead, and the other to his heart. "And then he just….he just collapsed."

Tears sprung to Thranduil's eyes, and he took his youngest son's ice cold hand. "Valar, no. Spare him. Do not take my child."

"Ada, what…?"

"He is fading," Thranduil whispered, bowing his head. Silent tears flowed, but he did not bother to brush them away.

"No," Airëlus breathed. He knelt next to the bed and closed his eyes tightly. This could not happen. Legolas could not die.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	20. Disturbing Dreams

Airëlus raised his eyes to meet the King's, and shook his head slowly. "It cannot be true, Ada. He is not fading. Legolas is so much stronger than this, and he will pull through. He will wake soon enough."

"You are right, he will wake up." Thranduil exhaled deeply, and swiped at his eyes. "But he will not be the same. Eventually, he will cease to recognize those around him, and his soul will just give up and leave for the Halls of Mandos. Legolas' heart has been broken. He feels so betrayed by us, his family, that grief has consumed him, and he has no desire to carry on living."

"When will he go?" Airëlus asked softly.

Thranduil opened his mouth to reply, but found that no words came out. He shook his head sadly and looked down at Legolas, his hand resting on the Prince's pale cheek. Never in his darkest dreams had he imagined that he would be in a position such as the one he was in.

"Ada, I need to know. When will he go?" Airëlus' words were choked with emotion.

"I cannot say. It could be tomorrow, it could be a week. Maybe longer," Thranduil replied softly. "But we may be able to save him. I do not have healing powers so great that I can restore his health. There are no such healers in Mirkwood. However, Elrond of Rivendell _does _hold healing powers to such an extent."

"Lord Elrond? But what if he arrives too late?" Airëlus asked anxiously.

Thranduil shook his head and tore his gaze away from Legolas, so that he could look out of the window across at the soldiers in the courtyard and in the training fields. "I will choose the swiftest riders…"

"Do I have your permission to go?" Airëlus asked hesitantly.

"No," Thranduil said immediately. "You may encounter all sorts on the way to Rivendell. Besides, you cannot ride there again. It was not long ago that we returned here, and you are weary."

Airëlus shook his head, blinking back hot tears that were threatening to spill. "I cannot stay here and watch my little brother fading. I am sorry, but with or without your permission, I will ride to Rivendell. I will not watch Legolas die."

"If…if I allow you to go, then I want your word that you will not travel alone. Take a group of riders with you for protection," Thranduil instructed. "Take the direct road to Rivendell."

"I will," Airëlus said softly, getting to his feet.

"Wait," the Elven-king said desperately. "In leaving Mirkwood, you are taking a great risk. It may be that in the time you are away, Legolas will…"

Airëlus swallowed nervously, and bit down on his lip. "No, he will not. I will leave now, and in a few days, will return here with Lord Elrond. But is there nothing that you can do for him now?"

"Elrond is skilled in that he has the ability to save fading Elves from the darkness. He is able to pour his own spirit into their bodies, and that is something which not many can do," Thranduil replied. "I can only try and reach out to Legolas when he is awake. Not with my spirit, but with my words. There is nothing else."

The Crown Prince nodded once, and looked down into Legolas' face. _"Im meleth le," _he said softly. _"No i Melain na le."_

"_Noro lim_," Thranduil said, locking eyes with his eldest son.

'_Namaarie," _Airëlus replied.He looked down once more at his brother, before turning on his heel and running from the room.

When the Elven-king was sure that the Crown Prince was out of hearing distance, he turned his gaze upon Legolas. "I will do anything and everything that I can for you. I will not let you be taken from me. But you also must fight. Only you can decide your fate."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Far away from dark Mirkwood, was another Elven realm. All was quiet there, the silence broken only by the gushing waterfall, the rustling trees in the gardens. The Elves all lay asleep, except for a few guards keeping watch. The Moon shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the beauty that was Rivendell.

One inhabitant of the haven, however, knew nothing of peace. He lay in a restless sleep, tossing and turning as dark dreams haunted him. There was a golden haired Elf – younger than himself – and he was being harmed in some horrific way. He was lying on the floor, but it was against his will. He was trying to get up, but someone held him down, an arrow in their hand. All of a sudden the visions changed, and the victim was lying in bed, two other Elves with him. His eyes were closed, and his spirit…there was something wrong with it. It was leaving his body. Very slowly, but it was still leaving.

"Legolas!" Elladan, son of Lord Elrond, sat up in bed and looked around the room wildly, eyes flashing in terror, and his breathing heavy.

Elrohir also woke as his twin's cry penetrated his senses. "What is it?" he muttered, reaching for a pillow to throw at the adjacent bed. He dropped his hand though, when he found that he was far too tired to do anything more than pull the covers tighter around his body.

"No, do not go back to sleep!" Elladan said desperately. "I had a dream."

"Alright, you can tell me about it tomorrow," Elrohir said into his pillows. "Go back to sleep. It is the middle of the night."

"Listen, something has happened. Someone is in trouble. I think it is-

"_You_ will be in trouble if you do not let me get some sleep!" Elrohir hissed, raising his head to glare at the other Elf. He turned on his side and pulled the covers over his head, muttering inaudibly.

Elladan stared at his brother's back for a moment, before getting out of his own bed and going over to the other. "Please, I would not keep you awake if I was not worried about something. You know that." His statement was clearly not worthy of a response, so he reached down and pulled the covers away.

"Ai, what are you doing?" Elrohir moaned, trying to grab them back. When he felt nothing but thin air, he jumped off his bed and got into his brother's empty one. "Very well, you have my attention. Please tell me why you have woken me at such an abysmally foolish hour."

Elladan sighed and got into Elrohir's bed, pulling the covers back up. "I am not playing around, 'Ro. I had a vision. Legolas was in it, I think, and he was being hurt by someone. I could not see who. And then I felt him. He is fading."

"What? Are you sure?" Elrohir asked doubtfully. "How could you possibly know something like that?"

"I do not know. But this is not the first time that I have seen things that I cannot explain," Elladan replied.

"Yes, but you are talking about the end of someone's life. That is no small thing," Elrohir said slowly, sleep completely forgotten.

"You forget that I saw Queen Findilan's death," the other twin said.

Elrohir winced at that. "No, I did not forget. But why is Legolas fading? And how is he hurt? He is not young enough to go out and fight, so it cannot be a battle injury. Valar, he has not even joined his first patrol yet. And why is his heart breaking?"

"There must be some reason," Elladan replied.

"What, though? It has been years since his mother died. I know that he does not get on particularly well with Calaen, but he is close to Thranduil and Airëlus," Elrohir said. He fell silent as his brother suddenly got out of bed and pulled a dark blue robe over his night-tunic.

"I am going to Ada," Elladan said. "He would want to know what I saw, and I want answers. I cannot sleep whilst I do not know what is happening."

Elrohir nodded and got out of bed, pulling his own dressing-robe over his shoulders. "Wait a moment. I will come with you," he said, as his twin opened the door.

"Thank you. I know how lazy you are. I am grateful that you have managed to drag yourself from bed just for something that could have been nothing more than a dream," Elladan said.

"Yes, well. What if it is more than a dream?" Elrohir asked grimly. He paused, and bit down on his lip. "Does Legolas still live?"

Elladan shot his twin a sideways glance. "He was alive, but only just. He has no wish to go, I could feel that much. He could pass on at any time."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Im meleth le_…………………I love you

_No i Melain na le_……………May the Valar be with you.

_Noro lim_…………………….Ride hard

_Namaarie_…………………...Farewell


	21. Fading to Darkness

"Are you sure of this?" Lord Elrond demanded.

After being unceremoniously woken by his sons, he had quickly changed into day clothes, as had the twins, for they all wanted to be prepared, should the need arise to leave. The three of them were, at that moment in time, in the study – Elrond sat behind his desk, and Elrohir was leaning against the wall, watching his brother pacing up and down.

"Of course I am sure," Elladan snapped. "Since I woke, I have not once doubted what I saw. If I did, then I would not have kept Elrohir awake, and I most certainly would not have come to you. Ada, believe me when I say that Legolas is in trouble."

"I _do_ believe you," Elrond replied. "I do."

Elrohir reached out and put a hand on his brother's shoulder, to stop him from pacing. "Both of us have full faith and belief in whatever you say." He flashed Elladan a brief smile, before turning to their father. "Ada, what are we going to do?"

Elrond shook himself out of reverie, and snapped his eyes across to meet Elrohir's. "Forgive me, I was deep in thought. It seems as though there is only one thing that we can do. We ride to Mirkwood. Now."

"Mirkwood? Now?" Elladan asked, surprised at the Elven-lord's quick solution. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," Elrond replied. He pushed back his chair and went to a cupboard at the side of the room. "As Elrohir just said, we have full faith and belief in whatever you tell us. Besides, what sort of father would I be if I did not listen to my son?"

"Thank you," Elladan said quietly.

Lord Elrond shook his head and smiled gently. "Do not thank me yet. If we get to Mirkwood and it transpires that all is well, _then _you can thank me for my trust in you."

"Fair enough. But what about Estel? He would hate to be left behind," Elladan said, watching as his father began pulling various jars and phials of medicine from the cupboard. "And you know how close he and Legolas are."

"Are you sure that all of this will be needed?" Elrohir asked, studying each type of medicine as he put them into a pack.

Elrond nodded as he took out one last jar. "We do not know what ails Legolas, so we must take as much as possible."

"Excuse me, Ada. Either you consider Elrohir's question to be of greater importance than mine, or you are just avoiding giving me an answer," Elladan said. "What about Estel?"

"He would not wish to stay behind," Elrond sighed, pulling on a travelling cloak.

"That is true. Can you imagine what he would feel like if something happened to Legolas and he was not there?" Elrohir said. "I think we should-

The door to the study opened, and the aforementioned young man entered the room. He took in the packs on the desk, and the travelling cloaks that his foster family wore, and his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he turned them upon Elrond. He tilted his head to the side, silently asking what was happening.

The Elven-lord sighed deeply. "There is something that you must know, Estel."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

King Thranduil leaned forwards in anticipation as his son's eyes fluttered briefly. It was almost two days since Airëlus and his group of riders had left, and the youngest Prince of Mirkwood had shown no signs of awakening. Now though, things were starting to look slightly more hopeful. But only slightly. Legolas' fingers flexed and curled around the silk sheets that had been put over him. His head turned lightly to the side, and rested on his shoulder.

"Please wake up," Thranduil whispered, reaching out and tenderly stroking his child's hair. He held his breath as the Prince turned his head back the other way and ever so slowly opened his eyes.

"Ada…"

"Oh Legolas, you worried me," Thranduil breathed.

"Did I?" The younger Elf's voice was dull, and there was no life to it.

The Elven-king looked into his son's eyes, trying to ignore the fact that the usually bright silver orbs were without their sparkle. "Of course you did. I live in constant worry for you."

Legolas nodded slowly, and lowered his eyes. It was strange. His back and chest wounds tingled slightly, but there was very little pain. It was his heart that hurt. It felt as though it had been ripped out of his body, torn in two, and stamped on by all the Orcs of Mordor. He shuddered at the feeling, and looked away.

"Do you want something to drink?" Thranduil asked softly. When all he got as a reply was a slight shrug of the shoulders, he exhaled deeply and went across to a table at the side of the room. As he poured some water, he subtly studied the ill Elf's movements and expressions. He was not calmed.

Legolas was staring up at the ceiling, blinking only occasionally. He slowly drummed the fingers of his right hand on the bed, whilst his left hand lay motionless at his side. His face, which was usually so full of life, was devoid of colour and expression. The Elven-king closed his eyes in despair – he hated seeing his child in such a condition.

"You have been crying."

Thranduil took the cup of water over to his son, and pressed it into his hand. "Yes. I cried for a while. Like I said, I was worried about you. But I see that there was no need for me to be so concerned. You are awake now." As he spoke, he watched closely for a reaction. None came.

Without replying, Legolas took a sip of the water, but as soon as it hit the back of his throat, he grimaced, and put the cup on the bedside table. "I had a dream," he said suddenly.

"Did you?" Thranduil asked. "What did you dream of?"

"Nothing specific," Legolas replied. "There were lots of different things. I saw myself as an Elfling, and I was playing with Calaen and Airëlus. We were all happy, laughing. Calaen picked me up and swung me around, and he was careful not to hurt me."

Thranduil nodded slowly, a brief smile gracing his features. "You and he used to be close."

"I know," Legolas said distantly.

**Begin Flashback**

Calaen paused outside his younger brother's door, and listened for a moment. It was late, and he had just been on the way to bed, but when he had heard sobs coming from Legolas' room, he had immediately been stopped in his tracks. He hated knowing that the Elfling was upset – it physically hurt him.

"Greenleaf, what is it?" Calaen asked, as he pushed the door open. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Legolas started, and raised his head. "Cal! Cal, there were big things. They were horrible and black and big. They were chasing me, and then they…they got me," he sobbed.

The dark haired Elf sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled his brother into his arms. "No, they were not chasing you. It was only a dream. Besides, nothing can get you whilst I am here."

"Don't tell Ada and Nana about this," Legolas whispered into the elder Prince's chest.

"Why not? I think that they would want to know that you are upset," Calaen said. Tightening his grip on his brother, he swung his legs up onto the bed, and lay back against the pillows.

"But I don't want them to think that I'm silly," Legolas muttered.

Calaen smiled, and leaned back so that he could look into the Elfling's eyes. "They would not think that you are silly. Why should they? There is nothing silly about having a nightmare. I had one just the other week."

"But you didn't cry about it," Legolas sniffed.

"No, but you are only little," Calaen replied.

The child looked into his brother's green eyes, and smiled. "When I'm older, I want to be like you. I think that you're brave, Cal."

"What about Airëlus? Do you not think that he is brave?" the dark haired Elf asked.

"Well, yes. Yes, he is brave. But I don't know if he cries when he has nightmares," Legolas said, leaning into his older brother and snuggling against him as he was taken once more by sleep.

**End Flashback**

"I still wonder why he turned against me," Legolas said slowly. "At least, I know his reasons, but I don't know why it had to happen to us."

"Had you finished telling me about your dream, or was there more?" Thranduil was desperate not to have his son become – if possible – even more unhappy.

"Yes, there was more," Legolas replied. "After I saw myself playing with Calaen, everything went dark, and we were suddenly in front of the tree that Naneth fell from. I felt as though I was in his mind."

"If this is painful for you to speak of, then-

"I want to," Legolas cut in. "In the months after Naneth died, Calaen was filled with great hatred for me. It never went away, and as each day passed, his anger grew. It was a strange dream, because not only could I see into his mind, but I could also see into _your _mind. And Airëlus'."

"What were we thinking?"

Legolas shrugged lightly. "Nothing bad."

Does that not then tell you something?" Thranduil asked softly.

"It tells me nothing. If anything, it only leaves me more confused than I already was," Legolas replied. "I am not happy here, and I want to leave. If I reach the Halls of Mandos, then I will be content, for I will be free from all of this."

Thranduil shook his head, tears gathering in his eyes. "Please, you must know that neither Airëlus nor I would ever do anything such as what you think we have done in the past few days. You cannot leave me. I love you more than life itself, Greenleaf."

I have not been called that for a long time," Legolas murmured. "You used to call me that when I was a child."

"You still are a child," Thranduil whispered.

"When I pass on, I will see Naneth," the Prince said softly. "We will be re-united in death."

That was too much for the usually strong Elven-king. He bowed his head as the tears finally escaped from his eyes. "But is this really what you want? Do you really want to pass on?"

"I don't know," Legolas said quietly. "But I think that dying is better than staying here. Ada, I do not want you to grieve for me. From the depths within my past is the story with no happy ending. If I stay, then I know that there will be many more sad endings."

As he finished speaking, a shadow crossed the young Prince's face, and he drew in a sharp breath. "Ada, this is it. I'm sorry…"

"No," Thranduil breathed, pulling his son up by the shoulders. "Please, do not leave me. Do not go where I cannot."

"I never meant to…" Legolas coughed, fighting to get his breath back. "Ada, I never meant to…I know that you didn't…"

"Peace, Legolas," Thranduil whispered. "Be at peace."

A mist floated through the Prince's once bright eyes, and he went limp in the Elven-king's hold. His head fell back, golden hair cascading over his father's arms. And as he took his final breath, his eyes closed for the last time.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....


	22. Back to the Light

Airëlus breathed a sigh of relief as he and the other Elves that had journeyed with him rode into the courtyard at Rivendell. Since leaving Mirkwood, they had ridden hard, with only a few brief breaks. Their weariness showed as the Crown Prince jumped off his horse and stumbled slightly as his feet hit the ground. But he steadied himself, and ran up the stairs and into the home of Lord Elrond and his family.

He was tired, exhausted even, though his pushed himself on down the corridor to where Elrond's study was. When he reached it, he kicked the door open, perhaps a little more harshly than intended. But he did not care – he grew more and more worried as each second passed.

"Perfect," he muttered, when he found that the study was empty. He turned on his heel and ran like the wind to the twins' room. Though, they were not in there either. Cursing under his breath, he went next door to where Estel slept. That also, was empty.

Running a hand through his hair and looking desperately around him, hot tears filled Airëlus' eyes. He wished that he had not left Legolas, for he now felt that not knowing was worse than knowing. Exhaling deeply, he swiped at his eyes and made his way swiftly back down to the courtyard.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

One of the Mirkwood riders pulled a letter from his pocket, and looked at it carefully. He had been one of the soldiers to escort Calaen to the borders of Mirkwood, and before the Prince had left, he had given him the folded piece of parchment, and asked him if he could give it to an Elf who went by the name of Berian, when he was next in Rivendell.

He looked around at the Imladris Elves who were gathered around, and touched one of them briefly on the shoulder. "Excuse me, is there anyone named Berian here?"

"Berian? You are talking to him," the fair haired Elf replied.

The soldier smiled briefly. "Forgive me. I am Eveldir, and I have a letter for you. It is from Prince Calaen of Mirkwood. He asked me to give it to you."

Berian's eyes widened in surprise, and he took the folded piece of parchment quickly. He flipped it open and scanned it. The words made his heart skip a beat, but he forced himself to smile at Eveldir, and nod his thanks. Valar, Calaen was asking a lot…

"Has anybody seen Lord Elrond or his sons?"

The fair haired Elf looked up to see Airëlus running down the stairs and back into the courtyard, and he moved behind some gathered Elves, so that he could watch without being seen. No doubt the Crown Prince of Mirkwood would recognise him, and that was not what he wanted if he was to do what Calaen had asked of him.

"Lord Elrond or his sons? Prince Airëlus, they left two days ago," one of the Rivendell soldiers replied. He had just been informed of the happenings back in Mirkwood, and needless to say he was shocked.

"They have left? Celorfyn, where did they go?" Airëlus demanded, his face paling and his heart sinking.

"I was not on guard duty when they left, but apparently they have gone to Mirkwood. I am sorry. It was not known why they left in such a hurry, but…" Celorfyn shifted uncomfortably. "Well, we know now, and can only offer you our sympathies."

Airëlus exhaled deeply, and pushed a hand through his hair. "I must return to my family. I do not ask any of you to come with me, for I have made you ride hard these past two days. You may rest here if you so wish." With that, he jumped onto his horse's back, and kicked the already worn out animal into action.

"King Thranduil would not thank us for letting his son go out alone," Eveldir murmured, watching anxiously as his Prince galloped away.

Berian came out from behind the group of Elves he had been using to subtly conceal himself, and smiled. "He would not, but you are clearly tired," he said. "Besides, it seems as though the King has enough to deal with. May I suggest that you take Prince Airëlus' advice and rest here for a while? It need only be a few hours, if that is all you want, and then you can go after him."

Those few hours, though, could turn out to be fatal for the Crown Prince of Mirkwood.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Where are they?" Elrond asked his son urgently.

"The…the King's rooms," Elladan replied. "I think, but I cannot be sure."

As they began running once more through the corridors and up the stairs to where the Royal Family had their private rooms, Elrohir reflected on the length of time it had taken them to arrive in Mirkwood. It had seemed like years. Of course, it was not, but it definitely felt like it.

"Ada, what if Legolas…?" Estel trailed off as they ran up the stairs to Thranduil's rooms.

"I do not know anything," Elrond replied quickly. "All I know is that you must prepare yourself for the worst."

'_Valar, let him be alright,' _Elladan thought desperately.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was going to see inside, and pushed open the large oak door. Tears immediately filled his eyes. They were too late. He looked at King Thranduil, who was sat on the bed holding Legolas' body close. His head was bowed, and although his face was hidden by golden hair, Elladan knew that he cried.

"Your Highness…" he said softly.

The Elven-king looked up, and shook his head helplessly. "It is too late," he whispered. "Legolas has gone. He has gone to the Halls of Mandos."

"No," Estel breathed.

"I am sorry. When did he…?" Elrond trailed off as he went to the bed, and as realisation hit, he drew in a sharp breath "By the Valar!"

Thranduil looked up at the exclamation. He tried to speak, to ask what was happening, but found that his grief had rendered him speechless. He could only watch as the elder Elven-lord pressed a hand against the Prince's chest, feeling for a heartbeat. He bit down on his lip, wondering what hope there was left.

"Choose your fate, Legolas Greenleaf. Come back to the light of this world, or carry on into darkness," Elrond said, closing his eyes. "Come back to us, pen-neth. This is not yet your time."

"Come on, Legolas," Estel muttered. "Come on, fight. You can do this."

"_Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad," _Elrond continued. "_Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan…" _He trailed off into silence as the young Prince's eyes snapped open, flickering with confusion.

"Valar…" Thranduil breathed.

Elrond let out a sigh of relief and withdrew his hands. Legolas had been reluctant to accept his spirit, and had kept trying to push it away. The Elf Lord was weakened, and as he got to his feet, he swayed slightly. But he held his balance, and made his way over to his sons. They looked at him expectantly – their friend's head was turned to the other side, and they had seen nothing. But Elrond merely shook his head, and gestured them outside.

"Oh Legolas," Thranduil breathed, drawing the Prince close. There were so many things that he wanted to say, so many times that he wanted to tell Legolas that he loved him, so many times that he wanted to reassure him that everything would be alright.

"Ada…"

"No, do not speak," Thranduil whispered. He kissed the top of his son's golden head, and closed his eyes tightly. "You are safe now. You are safe."

Legolas raised his eyes to meet his father's, and as he spoke, his voice became choked with emotion. "Ada, I don't want to leave. I don't want to die."

"I will not let you," the Elven-king said softly. "I will never let you go again."

"I am so sorry that I did not believe you. I should have known that you would never…" Legolas closed his eyes as a single tear fell. "Ada, can you forgive me?"

Thranduil was just about to reply, but was cut off as the door opened again. He looked up to see Lord Elrond, and smiled weakly. The dark haired Elf inclined his head and watched the re-united pair in silence for a moment, before taking a step forwards.

"May I speak with you, Thranduil?" he asked. He hated to tear the King away from his son so soon, but it had to be done. He had to be warned.

The Sinda Elf narrowed his eyes, and it looked for a moment as though his stubborn side was going to come through. But then he lowered Legolas so that his head rested against the pillows. "I must go to Lord Elrond, ion-nin. I will not be far, only outside this room."

The Prince was both weak and tired, but he launched himself up and grabbed the front of his father's robes. "No, don't leave me. Please, Ada. I…I'm scared."

"Nothing will happen to you," Thranduil replied, gently prising his son's fingers away. "I give you my word on that."

"Ada, please…"

The Elven-king brushed some hair from Legolas' eyes, and smiled. "There is nothing to forgive," he said softly.

"What do you…?"

"I did not answer your question," Thranduil replied. "I am doing so now, and I am telling you that there is nothing to forgive. It was not your fault."

Legolas nodded slowly. "Ada, you will come back?"

"Even if Elrond threatened to set his mother in-law on me, I would come back," Thranduil whispered.

Over by the door, the Noldor Elf coughed. "I heard that," he said dryly.

Legolas smiled weakly, and watched as his father went to the other side of the room. He could see that the two elder Elves were discussing something, but they spoke in low voices, and he was unable to hear what was being said. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the pillows.

"It would be best if Legolas did not hear this," Elrond whispered.

Thranduil shook his head, and glanced back at his son. "No. I am not leaving him."

"Very well, I will just be wasting my time if I argue with you." Elrond paused, and sighed deeply. "He is not yet out of danger. I know that he is back with us, but that is only because I helped him along."

"I cannot thank you enough," Thranduil replied.

"Yes, but like I said, Legolas is not yet out of danger. He alone can decide the fate of his life. There are only so many times that I can save him," Elrond said gently. "Keeping him here against his will would be cruelty."

Thranduil looked across at his son, and smiled weakly. "He said that he does not want to die."

"Hmm. All the same, we must keep a very close watch on him, and he must not be left alone, even if it is only for a few minutes," Elrond said. "At least now that I know what is wrong with him, I will be better able to help."

"Thank you. The rooms that you and your family usually use are available," Thranduil said distantly.

Elrond smiled, and touched a hand to the younger Elf's shoulder. "I will leave you two alone."

The Elven-king nodded, and closed the door. He leaned against it for a moment and closed his eyes, wondering exactly how long this drama would continue for. Then, sighing deeply, he went back over to his son, and sat on the edge of the bed, immediately taking the Prince's hand.

"Ada, where is Airëlus?" Legolas asked softly.

Thranduil hesitated. In all that had happened, his eldest son had slipped from his mind. "He…he is not back yet. But do not worry. He will be here soon enough."

"Will he?"

The King nodded reassuringly, though inside, he was afraid for Airëlus. He could not identify what it was, but there was something telling him that not all was well. He sensed that this ordeal was not over. Far from it in fact…

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan nan galad_……….Hear my voice, come back to the light (FOTR)


	23. Reunion

The twins and Estel waited impatiently at the side of the room, watching as Lord Elrond changed Legolas' bandages. When they had first seen the extent of the Prince's wounds, and the word that marked his body, all three of them had been disgusted, but Estel had been so affected, that he had had to leave the room to be violently sick.

"Where is my father?" Legolas asked softly.

"He has gone to send a patrol out to meet your brother," Elrond replied. "Airëlus should be returning today." His voice was calm, but inside, he was worried - his path should have crossed with the Crown Prince's on the way to Mirkwood, but it had not.

Legolas nodded slowly, fiddling absentmindedly with the silk sheets. He was coming to depend on his father more and more as each hour passed. He knew full well that he had nearly been lost to the world, and he also knew that he could slip into darkness again at any moment. That scared him more than he would like to admit.

"It is all done," Elrond said, sitting back in his chair. "How do you feel?"

The Prince shrugged as he pulled on a loose shirt. "I am fine, my Lord. But I… No. It does not matter."

"If you are in pain, then you must tell me," Elrond said sharply.

"It is nothing. I am not in pain," Legolas said.

The healer arched an eyebrow, but did not press the matter. He made a mental note to tell Thranduil of his suspicions that all was not well. No sooner had he thought this though, the door opened and the King himself came into the room, obvious worry on his face. He was swift to disguise it though, when he realised that his son was awake.

"Is everything alright?" Legolas asked.

"Fine." Thranduil exhaled deeply, and shook his head. "I was arranging for a patrol to go out and meet Airëlus, that is all."

"Oh. Then, he is not yet back," Legolas said softly.

"I am sorry," the King replied.

"Thranduil, I wish to see you outside for a moment," Elrond said. He raised a hand at the look on his friend's face. "Yes, I know that you have only just got here, but there is something I would like to discuss."

"Very well," Thranduil sighed.

There was silence in the room as the two Elven-lords left, and when the door had closed behind them, there was still silence. Elladan and Elrohir glanced uneasily at each other, whilst Estel shifted uncomfortably. It was Legolas, surprisingly, who spoke first of all. His voice was harsh, perhaps harsher than he had intended.

"You can talk to me," he said.

Estel sighed, and shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry. I…we….how are you?" he asked lamely.

"I have been better," Legolas replied. "How is it that you are here? Airëlus was sent to bring your father here, but you left Rivendell without seeing him."

"I am not the one to speak about that," Estel said.

Elladan smiled briefly at his foster brother, before going forwards to sit in the chair next to the bed. "Legolas, I had a dream. You were in it. When I woke, I knew that something was wrong with you."

The Prince drew in a sharp breath, and his face paled. "Do you mean to say that you saw…you saw…?"

"Yes, I saw what Calaen did to you," Elladan said softly. "I am sorry."

Legolas bit down on his lip, lowering his eyes and turning his face away. He was ashamed, so ashamed of everything that had happened, ashamed of all the pain that had been caused. Though, it was not just a matter of physical pain. His pride had been seriously damaged.

"Are you alright?" Elrohir asked.

The door opened and Elrond and Thranduil, sparing Legolas from answering the question. He would not lie to his friends, but that would mean telling them the truth, that _no,_ he was not alright. In fact, he was far from alright. How could he be, when he had just found out that everything he had been put through had been seen by one of his closest friends?

"We will see you later if you are well enough," Estel said.

When there was no reply, Elladan touched a hand to his friend's shoulder. "Legolas? We will come and see you later if you are-

"Why should I not be well enough?" the Prince snapped.

At a light cough from Elrond, the twins and Estel reluctantly left the room, leaving father and son alone. Thranduil went forwards and sat next to the bed, though, he made no effort to speak – he did not want to be the one to make the first move. The younger Elf folded his arms across his chest, eyes flashing.

"He saw," Legolas muttered. "Elladan saw what Calaen did to me. Is it not enough that everyone already knows? I wish that he had not seen it."

"Why not?" Thranduil asked. "He saved your life. Elrond would not have got here if not for him."

Legolas' expression softened slightly, but the fire in his eyes did not dim. "If you were put through so much pain, would you want it to be seen? Would you want one of your best friends to see you at your weakest?"

"No. No, I would not," Thranduil replied. He paused, and glanced at his son. "Elrond told me that there is something troubling you. Is that it, or was there more?"

"There is nothing," Legolas said quietly.

The Elven-king smiled vaguely – he knew when his own child was hiding something. "You are not alone in this. Believe me when I say that I can help you."

Legolas sighed, and drew his knees up to his chest. "You have not slept since you returned from Rivendell."

"I have had enough," Thranduil replied. "Elrond made me take a few hours rest in Airëlus' room last night."

"It has been…what, four or five days since you left Rivendell," Legolas said. "A few hours are not enough."

The Elven-king smiled. "I am supposed to be looking after you, not the other way around. But really, I am fine. A few hours is all that I need. Now, is _that_ all that was troubling you?"

"No. You do not have to stay with me," Legolas said abruptly.

"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked.

"Ada, you are the King. Surely you have work to do, meetings to attend. I am keeping you from all of that," the Prince said bitterly. "If you want to go, then….go."

"I want to stay with you. Do you really think that I place a bit of paperwork above my own son?" Thranduil asked in surprise.

"Of course not," Legolas replied. "I just feel so…so weak. Why can I not do this on my own? I should not be scared, but I am. And even though I try and fight away the fear, it keeps on returning, and I cannot…" He trailed off, and shook his head helplessly.

Thranduil shook his head as he moved to the edge of the bed and drew his son to him. "No. Your fear is justified. You have been through so much, and if you were not afraid, then I would worry for you. You have been through an ordeal that should not be known to our race."

"So why did it happen to me?" Legolas asked softly. "Why did Calaen…?"

"I cannot answer that question. But I do not want you to be ashamed of your fear." Thranduil sighed, and gently stroked the younger Elf's hair. "It will take time for everything to get back to normal."

"I want to see Airëlus," Legolas whispered.

"I know you do," the King replied. "But until he returns, you will have to put up with me. Will you be able to do that, or is that a fate too unbearable?"

Legolas drew away from the embrace, and locked eyes with his father. "No, I think that I can put up with you for a while longer."

"Good, for I am going nowhere," Thranduil said seriously. He glanced outside, and sighed inwardly. Darkness had fallen, yet there was still no sign of Airëlus.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Crown Prince of Mirkwood rode quickly – or at least as quickly as his tired horse could manage – for he was determined to reach the palace before much more time had passed. Night had already set in, but that did not stop him; nor did the fact that he had been travelling for two days without rest.

As he wound his way through the trees, his sharp hearing picked up a noise from above him. It was a gentle rustling that was coming from somewhere in the trees. But Airëlus paid little attention to it – he did not have time to worry about what was more than likely a wild animal.

Ignoring the noise, though, was a mistake that would cost him more than he could imagine. The next thing he knew, a sudden light weight dropped down behind him on top of the horse. He tried to turn around, but was having difficulty controlling his mount, who had spooked at the extra weight on her back.

He snapped his head around, trying to catch a glimpse of what had landed behind him. But that was another mistake. He was grabbed around the waist and lifted from the horse's back. Before he even had time to fight back, he was being thrown to the forest floor. A light figure landed on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

"It has been a while, brother," the attacker said softly.

Airëlus locked his blue eyes onto the emerald green ones that were above him, and drew in a sharp breath. "Calaen…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	24. Fallen Prince

Airëlus stared into his brother's eyes for only a moment, before making a noise of anger and swinging his arm up to defend himself. Calaen merely laughed, and caught the Crown Prince's wrist in a vice like grip. His green orbs twinkled, as though the whole situation amused him.

"You were always the strongest, weren't you? Not any more," he sneered. "Let me guess. You are going back to Ada and Legolas. Speaking of which, how is the little brat from the depths of Mordor?"

"Don't you dare insult my brother!" Airëlus hissed.

Calaen arched an eyebrow, and smiled. "_Your _brother? That's funny, because the last I heard, he was _my_ brother too."

"You have no idea what you have done to him! He is fading! I would have been able to forgive you for all the rest of it, but not this," Airëlus said in a low voice. "You mean nothing to us any more. You are no longer part of our family."

Calaen raised his fist, and threw it into his brother's face. "You will hold your tongue or pay the consequences! And they will be severe, trust me."

"I will not let you touch me," Airëlus hissed, bringing up his knees and slamming them into the other Elf's chest. He was weary, but he would _not_ let himself be beaten.

The dark haired Prince flew backwards, hitting his head as he landed against the trunk of a tree. "You will regret that," he muttered. Faster than lightning, he pulled a knife from his belt and threw it across the clearing. His aim was true: the blade embedded itself in Airëlus' shoulder.

"You are a coward," the Crown Prince said softly, his eyes flickering. "First of all you drive Legolas almost to death, because you knew that he would not fight you. And now you throw that knife at long distance, because you are afraid to fight in close combat."

"You call me a coward, but I cannot see how that is true," Calaen said. "It is your good self and Ada who are the cowards."

"How did you work that out?" Airëlus snapped, raising a hand and holding it to his shoulder.

"I was able to give precious little Legolas what he should have been given by all of us since the day that he was born," Calaen replied. "But no, I was the only one with courage enough to do it."

Airëlus shook his head sadly at the words. "You used to love him so much. What changed?"

"I did," Calaen said shortly. He shook himself mentally – he did not want to venture into that territory. "You know, I never wanted to hurt you. But unfortunately, your arrival at the palace interrupted Legolas and I. He was going to die, but you stopped that. Now you must pay the price. You must die."

Airëlus laughed derisively. "I must die? Who are you fooling, Calaen? You will not kill me. And even if you found the courage within you to do so, I would fight you to the very end. No, you would not kill me."

"I really would," the dark haired Elf said calmly. "However, I am willing to come to a compromise."

"What would that be?" Airëlus spat.

Calaen stepped close to his brother, and pushed the already embedded knife deeper into his shoulder. The Crown Prince could not help crying out. "Beg me for mercy, and then I will let you go."

"I will never do that," Airëlus said in a low voice.

"No? Well, that is your choice. It is an odd one, but have it your own way." Calaen smiled, and twisted the blade sharply to the right, then immediately back to the left.

"Ai Elbereth!" Airëlus breathed, sinking to his knees.

"The offer still stands," Calaen said. "Beg me for mercy, and you can go free. Just think, you can be back with Ada and Legolas if you just-

"Never!" Gritting his teeth, Airëlus lifted himself off the ground and threw himself into his unsuspecting brother, and bowled him over onto the leafy forest floor.

"You…" Calaen hissed in frustration, and rolled out from underneath the Crown Prince. Jumping to his feet and standing over him, he pulled another knife from his belt. "I have no wish to compromise with you now. Your passing will come much more quickly than anticipated."

Airëlus nodded slowly, a humourless smile playing on his lips. "Kill me, if that is what you want. But what of Legolas? Will you return for him?"

"That is for me to know," Calaen said coldly. He locked eyes with his brother for a brief moment, before dropping to the ground beside him, and plunging the knife into his heart.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Elrohir lay in bed, staring up at the darkened ceiling. He could not sleep, and knew that he would more than likely lie awake for the rest of the night. He glanced over at his brother, wondering if he had found sleep. Elladan had, but his eyes were shut, and he tossed and turned in bed, the silky sheets tangling around his body.

"By the Valar," Elrohir muttered. He jumped out of his own bed and went across to sit on the edge of the other. "Wake up," he hissed, putting a hand on his twin's shoulder, and shaking him. "Come on, you are scaring me."

Without warning, Elladan awoke, and he launched himself up to grab the front of his brother's night-tunic. Tears had gathered in his stormy grey eyes, and the trembling of his body was obvious. "Elrohir…" he breathed.

"Peace, I am here. Everything is alright," the other Elf said soothingly, gently prising Elladan's fingers away, and taking his hand instead. "Calm yourself, and tell me what happened."

"I had another….another dream," Elladan whispered. "Calaen has Airëlus. He….he is going to kill him."

Elrohir's eyes widened in shock, and he grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "What did you say?" he demanded, though of course he had heard perfectly well.

"Calaen is going to kill Airëlus," Elladan repeated. "I think that we are too late this time."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas lay on his side with his face buried into the crook of his arm, listening to his father talking with Lord Elrond and Estel. The three conversed in low tones, careful not to 'wake' the Prince, but it was not so low that he could not hear all that was being said.

"Airëlus should be back by now," Thranduil sighed. "I worry for him. I know that he would not tarry on any journey, but especially one like this."

"That may be so, but do not forget that he left Rivendell with a group of riders," Elrond said. "One of the horses may have an injury, and that would slow them down. I understand that you are concerned, but you must not jump to conclusions."

Thranduil nodded and leaned forwards, letting a curtain of hair fall down to hide the fear that he knew was on his face. "You speak truly. But if he is not back by tomorrow, then I must take further action."

Estel cast around for a change of subject, and he smiled vaguely as his eyes fell on Legolas. "He is recovering swiftly. He is a lot better than he was."

"He may be healing on the outside, but it will take a while longer for his heart and mind to become as they once were," Elrond replied. "But that will come with time. All that he needs now is family and friends to give him as much love and help as possible."

"He will get it," the Elven-king said quietly. "I will make sure of it."

Silence fell again, and it hung heavily in the air. Thranduil cared little, but the other two, Estel particularly, found it uncomfortable. Again, he tried to think of something positive to say, but could think of nothing which could lighten the mood. He was rescued though, by the door flying open to slam against the wall.

"Quiet, fools!" he hissed. "Can you not see that Legolas is asleep? The last thing he needs is you two coming in here and making a noise like that."

"Ada, we must speak to you outside," Elrohir said urgently, ignoring his foster brother. "It cannot wait."

Elrond nodded and got to his feet, quickly followed by Estel, concern written all over both of their faces as they followed the twins from the room. When the door was shut once more, Thranduil stood, and went over to the bed. He knelt beside it, looking into his son's half hidden face.

"I meant what I said, Legolas. And I promise that I will _never _let harm befall you again. As long as I can protect you, I will," he said softly. "I know that I do not tell you this enough, but I love you. I love you so much, more than you can ever know. These past few days have been torture. At times, I felt as though my own heart was breaking. I would willingly swap places with you, just so that you could be spared all of this."

As he listened to the emotive words, Legolas felt torn in two. Part of him wanted to reach out and embrace his father, but he was loath to admit that he had heard everything, including the concerns over Airëlus' whereabouts. So he contented himself with biting down on his lip harder, and making sure that his breathing remained even.

Thranduil rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes tightly. But no sooner had he done that, the door opened, and he looked up quickly. Part of him had hoped to see Airëlus, though a greater part knew that it would not happen. He took in the expression on Elrond's face, and felt his heart sinking.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

The elder Elven-lord sighed, and nodded towards the door. "Come, you are needed outside."

Thranduil swallowed nervously and shot Legolas one last look, before standing, and leaving the room. As Elrond watched him going past, he sighed deeply. It was bad enough that he had already come close to losing his youngest son, and now…. Legolas! He was not yet strong enough to hear this kind of news. Shaking himself mentally, the Noldor Elf left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

When he was sure that he was alone, Legolas pushed himself into a sitting position, and stared at the door fearfully. Something had happened, he was sure of it. Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, wondering how steady he would be. It had been days since had had walked unaided.

As he got to his feet, the young Prince stumbled slightly, but threw out an arm to grab the back of a nearby chair. He steadied himself, and lifted one foot off the ground to try and get some feeling back into it, closing his eyes as he did so to try and get rid of the lights dancing in front of him.

After what felt like an age, he felt able to move again. He silently crossed the room, and leant against the wall, listening to the soft conversation outside. Over the space of a few minutes, he heard the agitated voice of Elladan, the sympathetic voice of Elrond, and the distressed voice of Thranduil.

Distressed? The Elven-king rarely got distressed. But everything fell into place as the words that were being said outside penetrated his mind. Tears filled his eyes, and shaking his head in disbelief, he turned, and made his way back to the bed. He did not know how he made it there without falling, for so great was his shock.

"Valar, not Airëlus. Please, keep him safe," the Prince whispered. "Spare him. Do not take my brother from me…."

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	25. Rash Decisions

Legolas kept his glistening eyes fixed on the floor as the door softly opened. The footsteps were too heavy for an Elf; it was Estel. He had not wanted to go with the others, for the grief of the King had been too much to bear. He smiled sadly when he saw that his friend was sitting up on the bed, though, he did not catch the tears.

"Oh, you are awake. It was not my brothers, was it?" he asked softly. "I know only too well how they shatter peace upon entering a room."

"It was not the twins," Legolas said dully.

Estel went forwards, surprised at the tone of voice, and touched a hand to the Elf's shoulder. "Are you in pain?"

"No, I am not," Legolas said angrily. "Do you think it was sensible for my father to be told of Elladan's vision right outside this room? I was listening at the door. I heard every word."

"I…I do not know of what you speak," Estel said hesitantly.

"Don't lie to me!" Legolas flared. "I heard your father and Elladan talking about it, so don't you dare sit there and tell me otherwise. Do you not think that I have the right to know the fate of my own brother?"

Estel bit down on his lip as the Elf jumped from the bed, and stormed over to the door. "Legolas, what are you doing?"

"I am going to save Airëlus," the Prince snapped.

"You cannot do that," Estel said incredulously. He followed his friend down the corridor, and grabbed his arm. "You are not thinking straight."

"You cannot stop me," Legolas said in a low voice.

"Stop this madness! You are not thinking properly. What makes you think that Thranduil will let you venture into the forest in the state that you are in?" Estel demanded. "I have no wish to further damage your pride, but the truth is, is that you _are _weak at the moment. Your father will not give you permission to go out there with a whole patrol, let alone on your own."

"He will not need to know," Legolas replied, glaring at the human. But then his expression softened, and he sighed deeply. "Estel, what if it was Elladan or Elrohir out there? Would you leave them alone to die if there was a chance that you could save them?"

Estel shook his head reluctantly. "No, I would not. But I would not do this either. What help will you be to Airëlus? I saw what you did when you jumped off the bed back then. You closed your eyes in pain. _And _you have three broken bones in your left hand. How do you expect to fight?"

Legolas pulled away from Estel, and continued down the corridor to his room. "Do not forget that I am an Elf. My hand is nearly fully healed."

The mortal shook his head in disbelief, though a great part of him knew that his friend had never been more serious. He sighed deeply, and followed the Prince down the corridor, but paused, when he saw that Legolas had halted outside the door to his own room.

"What is it?"

"When I go in there, it will be for the first time since Calaen held me captive," the Elf said slowly.

Estel sighed again, and touched a hand to his friend's shoulder. "You knew that you would have to do this at some point. But you are not alone, Legolas. And there is nothing in there that can hurt you. Only memories. You can fight them."

"I am glad you are with me," Legolas murmured. He smiled weakly, and pushed the door open.

His eyes flickered as he looked around slowly. The bed had been stripped of its old bloody sheets and remade with new ones, whilst the blood stain had been cleaned from the carpet. Apart from that, it was no different to the last time he had seen it. Shaking himself mentally, he walked into the room and went across to the cupboard.

"You do not have to do this," Estel said softly. "Your father sent a patrol out earlier today."

"They may be looking in all the wrong places," Legolas replied, pulling a light brown tunic over his blue shirt. "Airëlus is a good fighter, and strong, but he is weary at the moment. He has spent many days without rest."

Estel looked up, and his heart sank at the words. "What….what exactly did you hear my father and Elladan saying?"

"Calaen has Airëlus, and is holding him captive," Legolas replied. "That is all I wished to hear."

"Valar…" Estel pushed a hand through his dark hair, and shook his head sadly. "Mellon nin, there is something that you must know. In Elladan's dream, he….he…"

"Tell me," Legolas said sharply.

"In Elladan's dream, he did not see Calaen holding Airëlus captive," Estel replied. "Airëlus was on the ground, and he….he was not moving."

"What are you saying?" Legolas breathed.

The human reached out and touched a hand to his friend's shoulder. "There is no easy way to tell you this. But what I am trying to say is that Airëlus is….is dead. I am sorry. Elladan thinks that we are too late."

"Don't do this," Legolas whispered. "Using that as a way to keep me here is wrong. Please…"

"I wish I could say that I was doing such a thing," Estel sighed. "But I am not."

"My brother is dead." The Prince closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "Dead…"

Silence fell, a silence that was broken only by the soft voices of the trees outside, the whispering of the wind around the palace. As Estel watched the mix of emotions playing on his friend's face, he felt his own heart aching. Legolas had been through enough in his life, and he was the last one to deserve something like this to happen to him. It was unfair that such misfortune should fall upon him, when he had done nothing to deserve it.

Legolas looked up, and his eyes flashed dangerously. "I will go out there, with or without the help of anyone else, and I will avenge the death of my brother. Calaen will die, Estel."

"You really are going to do this aren't you?" the human said slowly, watching as his friend strapped his bow and quiver of arrows onto his back. "You are really going to go out there, despite your weakened state."

"I am," Legolas said firmly.

Estel sighed, and stepped forward to the Elf. "If this is what you want to do, then I cannot stop you. But you do not know where Calaen is. He could be anywhere."

"No, I have a good idea of where to find him," Legolas replied.

"What do you want me to do whilst you are gone?" Estel asked softly.

The Elf shook his head. "Whatever you think is best." He paused, and looked up at his friend. "Why are you doing this? You could tell my father what I am going to do, yet you are just letting me go."

Estel smiled, and drew the Prince to him in an embrace. "You are my closest friend, Legolas, and I understand your reasons. However, there are two things that I ask of you."

"Go on."

"Firstly, you will let me alert your father after one hour has passed," Estel said. "If you do not agree to this, then I will have no choice but to tell him now, for I do not want to see you fall prey to more harm."

"Alright," Legolas said. "And the other condition?"

Estel put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and locked eyes with him. "When you return, you must free your emotions. I know you well enough to see that you are hiding your grief. But to do that is not good for your soul."

"You are right. I _am_ hiding my grief," Legolas said shortly. "But I will shed no more tears for Airëlus until Calaen lies dead." He raised a hand and rested it on Estel's shoulder. "Hannon le."

The mortal smiled weakly as his friend turned and left the room. "May the Valar be with you and keep you safe," he murmured.

……………………………………………………………………………………………....


	26. Cannot Bear the Pain Alone

At the top of a tall tree half an hour away from the palace, Calaen tensed as his sharp Elven hearing picked up soft noises from somewhere below him. A smile flitted across his face though, when he recognized the familiar light footsteps of Legolas. It sounded as though the Prince was alone. That was good.

Calaen let his gaze travel to the base of the tree he sat in, and the sparkle in his eyes intensified. Airëlus was still down there, arms tied behind his back and eyes shut to the world. The knife had been removed from his chest, and he still lived. But only just. It would not be long before he was taken. Even a skilled healer with powers such as Lord Elrond had would be unable to save the Crown Prince of Mirkwood.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Valar…" Legolas breathed. He sprinted across the clearing, feeling as though a band of Orcs were fighting in his head. But he blocked it out – he had to.

"Airëlus, it's alright. I'm here now, and nothing is going to…" He trailed off into stunned silence as he noticed the blood.

The Crown Prince's eyes slowly opened, and he looked around, struggling to focus on anything. "Le…Legolas? Go…not safe," he murmured.

"Hush," the younger Elf whispered. He cut the bonds around his brother's wrists, and pulled off his own cloak and outer tunic. "I will take you back to the palace. Ada and Lord Elrond will heal you in no time at all." As he spoke, he ripped the pieces of clothing into strips, and wrapped them around his brother's wound.

"Listen…to me," Airëlus coughed. "Get away…from here. Go. Please."

Legolas shook his head, and wrapped his cloak around the Crown Prince's shoulders. "Do not worry. I _will_ get away from here, as will you."

"You might want to think again," came a silky voice from behind them.

The Prince jumped to his feet and whirled around, eyes narrowing when he saw who it was. "You…" he hissed.

"You look well," Calaen commented, running his eyes over his brother's body. "The last time I saw you, you were just a weak, pathetic, crying brat. But look at you now. You look ready to take on the whole of Middle Earth."

"Not the whole of Middle Earth. Just you," Legolas corrected.

Calaen's eyes danced, and he flashed a smile. "Are you challenging me?"

"Do you really think that I will let you get away with hurting Airëlus?" Legolas asked softly, taking out a white knife, and twirling it in his fingers.

"It is touching that you are willing to die for him," the dark haired Elf commented, drawing his own blade.

"There will only be one person dying this night, and it will not be me. Nor will it be Airëlus," the Prince replied.

The two brothers locked eyes and stared each other out, both determined not to look away. At the base of the tree, Airëlus' eyes filled with tears. He so wanted to protect Legolas, but his life's blood was flowing out of his body, and he knew that to move would lead to almost immediate death. He knew that his time was near.

"I was thinking of something earlier which struck me as ironic," Calaen remarked. "This is the same place that Naneth was…murdered. Did you notice? Well, I found it funny that you and Airëlus will be dying in the same spot."

Legolas hissed in anger and leapt forwards, swinging his blade in a wide arc. Calaen brought his arm up and blocked his brother's attack, the laughing sparkle not leaving his eyes. The younger Elf laughed bitterly and neatly sidestepped as his opponent's knife was directed towards his stomach.

"Nice move," Calaen murmured. "But you are a fool. You cannot beat me."

"Think what you want," the Prince hissed, throwing himself at his brother, and knocking him to the ground. He raised his knife and slashed it across the dark haired Elf's arm.

"You little…" Calaen gritted his teeth as blood began to flow, and, pulling his knees up to his chest, kicked Legolas off him. "Do not worry. I have just the thing to pay you back."

The younger Prince tried to get up, but found himself pinned down. "You fight unfairly," he murmured.

"What of it?" Calaen laughed. He dropped down to Legolas' side and ripped open the blue shirt that he wore, revealing the white bandage. He smirked as he tore it apart with his knife.

Legolas fought to get to his feet, but Calaen grabbed his head and slammed it down on the ground, hard. Black dots swam in front of his vision, and he looked across at Airëlus, defeat in his eyes. The Crown Prince shook his head slightly, and silently cursed himself for being so helpless.

"I see that this has not yet healed," Calaen mused, looking down at the word he had marked his brother's body with.

"What are you going to do, Cal?" Legolas asked softly. He was unable to keep the fear from his voice.

Calaen's eyes flickered, and he paused. "You used to call me that when you were younger," he muttered. But before he could get caught up in the past, he shook himself mentally, and pulled a phial from his pocket.

"Oh Valar," Airëlus breathed, as he realized what his brother held. He tried to push himself off the ground, but failed. "Calaen, don't do this to him. You have taken this too far as it is, but please, go no further. Legolas does not deserve this."

"I think he does," the dark haired Elf murmured, as he pulled the stopper from the phial.

Airëlus drew in a sharp breath, and screwing up his eyes, turned over so that he was on his hands and knees. "I will not let you touch him," he hissed, crawling over to his brother, and grabbing his arm.

"Get off me," Calaen snapped, turning and throwing the weakened Elf across the clearing.

Legolas cried out as Airëlus fell to the ground and hit his head, but was momentarily silenced by a harsh slap to his cheek. Anger fuelled by the treatment of his eldest brother, his eyes flashed, and he swung his arm up to hit Calaen away. But the older Elf merely grabbed it, and twisted it as hard as he could.

The young Prince hissed at the discomfort and tried to pull away, though that proved to be a mistake. His arm was thrown savagely backwards, and the angle it was at was a fatal one. A sickening crack was heard, causing even Calaen to flinch. Legolas tried to hold back the pain, but he could not help letting out a yell of agony.

Calaen drew in a sharp breath, and reached down to touch his brother's cheek. "Ai, why did you try and hit me? I would not have done that otherwise."

"Don't," Legolas breathed. "You have done enough. Will you not just kill me now? Let Airëlus go."

The dark haired Elf looked down first of all at the unnatural angle of his brother's shoulder, and then glanced across at the blood covering Airëlus' body. "Very well," he said slowly. "I will let both of you go. But there is something that I must first of all do. Just because I am going to spare your life, it does not change the way that I feel about you."

"Do what you must," Legolas whispered, ignoring Airëlus' cry of protest.

"It is not enough that I know what you are," Calaen said softly. "Everyone else must know. And you yourself must be reminded every day of what you did."

The young Prince looked up and locked eyes with his brother, the pain in his dislocated shoulder still there, but momentarily forgotten. As though in slow motion, Calaen raised his arm, and tipped the phial. A translucent liquid fell from it, landing lightly on the crimson letters scaring Legolas' stomach.

"Ai Elbereth!" Airëlus breathed, as his youngest brother let out a heart wrenching scream of pain.

Legolas slammed a hand onto the ground and tossed his head, the excruciating agony rendering him unable to try and fight for freedom. Fresh tears streamed from his eyes. It felt as though his whole body had been set on fire, and there was nothing he could do to help himself. He knew that this was physically worse than anything else he had been put through at the hands of his brother.

"Peace," Calaen soothed. "It will hurt a lot less if you keep still."

"No more!" Airëlus cried, as more of the liquid was spilled. "Leave him! You have done enough!"

And then without warning, Legolas' uninjured arm swung up and hit the phial away. It was sent upwards into the air, and it seemed to hang there for a split second, before dropping back down. Its contents spilled, landing on the Prince's already burning stomach, and into Calaen's eyes. The phial itself shattered on the ground.

The dark haired Elf yelled in pain, and sitting back on his heels, rubbed frantically at his eyes. Everything had gone blurry. In fact, his vision was so slighted that he could not even see what was in front of him. He did not see his younger brother grabbing a fallen knife and launching himself upwards.

Inhaling sharply, Legolas pushed the blade into Calaen's stomach, hesitating for not even a second. The elder Prince looked down in amazement at the protruding weapon, before falling to his knees on the ground. And then slowly, he keeled over, eyes fluttering shut. Blood flowered on the front of his tunic, and stained the leaves beneath him.

Tears of pain, anger and guilt continued to stream down the young Prince's cheeks in rivulets, but he forced his gaze away from his fallen brother, and crawled over to Airëlus, who was resting once more against the tree. His face was devoid of any color, and as Legolas noticed the mist in the pale blue eyes, he shook his head in disbelief.

"You killed Calaen," Airëlus said softly.

"I am so sorry," Legolas whispered, mistaking his brother's words for a harsh accusation. "Forgive me. I had to do it."

"I know that you did," the Crown Prince murmured. "You fought well, and I am proud of you. But now… this is my time."

"No. No, it's not. I can take you home and you can be healed," Legolas said, his voice choked. He leaned forwards and buried his face in his brother's shoulder.

"Do not cry for me," Airëlus said weakly, raising a hand and stroking the younger Prince's hair.

"But you are my brother," Legolas whispered.

"You must go…home," Airëlus breathed. "I do not want you to be here when I…when I go. It will be soon."

Legolas shook his head and threw his uninjured arm around the Crown Prince's neck. "Please, don't leave me. I need you with me. You must fight through this."

"No, you have to go on without me. You have so much ahead of you, so many chances," Airëlus said. "I always looked forward to…to seeing you join your first patrol, going out on your first scouting expedition, having you under my command in the troops so that I could…could give you orders without being told not to take advantage of your age."

Legolas smiled weakly at that. "You can still see all of that, just please….please hold on."

"Remember that I will always be with you," Airëlus murmured.

"But how can that be if you are not here?" Legolas choked out, drawing away from the embrace.

Airëlus smiled, and touched a hand to his brother's heart. "Here. And you will always be with me."

"Please, fight this," the young Prince pleaded. "I love you so much, and I need you more than you can imagine. You would always fight away my fears, and dry my tears. Who will do that for me if you go?"

"You will have Ada," Airëlus muttered. "Will you tell him…tell him that I love him? You must remain strong. If not for your own sake, then for his."

"We both need you," Legolas whispered.

The Crown Prince drew in a sharp breath, and his eyes flickered. "I am going. There is nothing that you can do."

"No…"

"_No i Melain na le," _Airëlus said softly. He paused, and smiled weakly. _"Im meleth le."_

"And I you," Legolas breathed. He took his brother's hand in his own, and bowed his head. "I love you so much."

"I will…always be with you," Airëlus whispered. His darkened eyes went out of focus, and slowly closed. His head fell back against the tree trunk, fair hair spilling over his shoulders.

Legolas screwed up his eyes and pulled his fallen brother into his arms, tears slipping from under his lashes. He sat like that for a long time, shoulders shaking as grief overcame him. He would not let go of Airëlus, for deep inside, there was a glimmer of hope that he still lived. But really, he knew it not to be true. He knew that the Crown Prince of Mirkwood was finally free from pain.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_No i Melain na le_...................May the Valar be with you

_Im meleth le_………………...I love you


	27. Giving Up Everything to Find Them

King Thranduil buried his face in his hands, and closed his eyes tightly. "Airëlus, why you?" he whispered. "Why? How can I have lost you?"

"Can you tell us anything about where they were?" Elrohir asked his twin desperately.

Elladan sighed, and leaned forwards in his chair. "All I could see was that they were in a small clearing surrounded by trees," he replied. "It was dark, and hard to see. But the trees were tall, very tall."

"What do you expect? This is a damned forest!" Thranduil snapped. He drew in a deep breath, and swiped at his glistening eyes. "I will not rest until my son is back here. I am going now to send out the rest of the patrols. I will go with them to find Airëlus."

"We will accompany you," Elrond offered. "Though it is best that Estel stays here with Legolas." Just as he finished speaking, the door flew open, and the aforementioned human ran into the room.

"Your Highness, Legolas has gone," he said abruptly.

Horror flitted across Thranduil's face as he jumped to his feet. "What do you mean? But he was…he was healing. How could he…?"

"No, you misunderstand me," Estel amended, silently cursing his bluntness. "He has left the palace and gone into the forest. He heard of Elladan's dream, and has vowed to kill Calaen."

Thranduil flicked his eyes across to the window, and exhaled deeply when he saw that rain had begun to fall. "By the Valar, how could he be so foolish? When did he leave?"

"Thirty minutes back," Estel said nervously. "He asked me to inform you after one hour had passed, but I could wait no longer. Your Highness, he would not listen to me when I tried to stop him. I am so sorry. I should have come straight to you."

"I place no blame on you, Estel," the Elven-king sighed. "Legolas rarely listens to me, so there is no reason why he would listen to anyone else. Did he give any indication as to where he is going?"

"He did not say this specifically, but I believe he has gone to the place of his mother's death," Estel replied. "But I do not think that he would be able to make it there in the time that he has been gone. He is still weak, despite what he says."

Thranduil nodded, and pulled off his regal robes to reveal day clothes akin to those that Legolas wore. "Then there is still a chance that he can be found before he does something even more reckless," he said, throwing a cloak around his shoulders and grabbing his bow. "As for Airëlus, I do not know what hope there is, but I will not believe he has passed on until I see him with my own eyes."

A mere five minutes later, the courtyard was filled with the sound of clattering hooves, shouted commands and rolling thunder. No questions were asked, there was no time. Everyone knew that their Prince's life lay in their hands.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas sat against the tree, holding Airëlus close to him. His tears had left lines in the blood and dirt on his cheeks, yet they continued to fall silently and freely. He did not care for the pain in his dislocated shoulder or burning abdomen. He did not know what substance Calaen had used on him, but again, that was something that he did not care about.

Exhaling deeply, Legolas absentmindedly brushed some hair away from his brother's cold forehead. "We will go home, Airëlus. I am not going to leave…" He fell silent as drops of rain began to fall from the sky.

It fell swiftly, and mingled with the tears on his cheeks, so that it was impossible to tell the two substances apart. Legolas gritted his teeth and looked down determinedly into Airëlus' face for a brief moment, before pulling the fallen Elf to him in one arm, and attempting to push himself off the ground.

But he did not get far, for the forest floor was both wet and muddy. He stumbled and slipped back to the base of the tree, crying out as his injured shoulder was knocked. "I will not fail you," he muttered, gently laying his brother's body on the ground. He got unsteadily to his feet and threw a nasty look down at his dislocated shoulder, gently flexing his arm. He could move it, just, but the pain would be unbearable.

A sudden clap of thunder resounded above the clearing, followed quickly by a bolt of lightning. It was fate that sent it to strike the tree that Legolas stood under. With a gasp of horror, the Prince dived to the ground and shielded Airëlus' body with his own as one of the branches fell, flaming.

As soon as it landed, the uncountable leaves and twigs covering the forest floor were ignited. Legolas raised his head and cried out as he saw red flames dancing in front of him. He stared around in horror, searching desperately for any way out. But the dry grass was perfect prey for the fire. The deadly killer was feeding off it like crows do a wild animal's carcass. It spread rapidly, eating everything that stood in its path.

"We will get out of here," Legolas muttered. But he knew that he would be unable to carry Airëlus in the condition he was in. There was only one thing he could do: fix his dislocated shoulder on his own.

He took a deep breath and stood back against a nearby tree, horribly aware of the flames that were licking around the clearing. There was a little voice in the back of his head which told him that he should just escape whilst there was still a chance, and leave Airëlus. But never would he do that. He refused.

"Valar help me," Legolas whispered, screwing up his eyes and throwing himself backwards. He hit the tree trunk with such force that his shoulder was immediately forced back into place. A cry of pain escaped his lips, and his vision went black for a brief moment.

Biting down on his lip, the Prince turned back to Airëlus, his shoulder still throbbing, and his body trembling. He bent down and slipped one arm under his brother's neck, the other under his legs. Exhaling sharply, he lifted the fallen Elf and held him close, ignoring the added pain to his shoulder.

"It's alright," he murmured, moving as swiftly as he could towards the one opening in the flames. "We will get out of here." He spoke to reassure himself.

Lightning struck again, sending two more heavy branches crashing to the ground, right in Legolas' path. He gasped and stumbled backwards, blinded by the smoke thrown into his eyes. Breathing heavily, he turned his face to the side, and buried it against his shoulder, in the hope that his vision would be protected somewhat.

"Not long now," he said softly, glancing down at Airëlus. His voice became choked with emotion as the realisation hit that the battle he fought with the flames was a losing one. But he would not give up.

Clenching his fists under his brother's body, he made to run forwards, but once more was thrown back, this time to the ground as wind swept through the forest. "I am so sorry, Airëlus. I cannot do this," he choked, pulling the fallen Elf into his arms and holding him close. "But it does not matter, because…because…" He coughed as smoke engulfed him. "It does not matter because I will stay with you."

Through the heavy smoke and dancing flames, Legolas caught sight of Calaen's motionless body. He stared at it for a moment, before bowing his head and burying his face in Airëlus' long hair. "I did not know it would end like this."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Your Highness, there is smoke ahead!" This report came from Suithien, the Commanding Officer of Mirkwood's troops. He raised himself up off his horse's back, shading his eyes as a grey mist swirled around them all.

The Elven-king cursed and pushed his black charger forwards, galloping through the trees past his soldiers, swiftly followed by Elrond, the twins and Estel. The closer they got to the clearing, the blacker and more acrid the smoke became. It spread out around them, making their eyes water and their breath catch in their throats.

The horses were brave, and they wanted nothing more than to turn and run the other way, but they pressed forwards. It was only the trust that they had in their riders that kept them going. At one point when she came almost face to face with flames, Elrohir's mount reared up on her hind legs, coming close to throwing the unsuspecting Elf.

"Ai Elbereth," Thranduil breathed, reining his horse in. The charger snorted and pawed at the ground, ears laid back against his head. They had drawn to a halt a safe way back from the outside of the clearing, where a wall of fire over thirty feet tall had been built around it, preventing all escape routers if there were any still alive inside.

Elrohir pulled up next to the Elven-king, trying to see through the deadly flames. But as he expected, his vision was obscured. He cursed and stood up on his horse's back, only to jump to an overhanging branch. As he climbed up the tree, he was dimly aware of his father and brothers shouting at him to come down. But instead of heeding them, he blocked out their instructions, and continued climbing.

"What in the Valar is he playing at?" Elrond muttered, watching as Elrohir climbed from branch to branch. But before he knew it, the other twin was jumping up to join his brother. "Elladan! Don't-

"No Ada, they will be able to see if anyone is in there," Estel said, shifting slightly on his horse's back.

Elrond flung out both arms as he sensed both Thranduil and his foster son preparing to jump. "Estel, I forbid you to join your brothers," he said sharply. He looked across at the younger Elven-lord, and shook his head. "Stay there. I know that you are desperate to see your sons, but the twins will bring us news."

The King strained his eyes, trying to see through the flames. The smoke made tears fall, but he did not even notice. "Elrond, if Airëlus and Legolas are in there, then I cannot-

He was cut off by the twins jumping back down and landing lightly on their horse's backs. Both had streaming eyes and dirty faces, though that did not hide the fact that they were worried. More than worried, in fact. Elladan shook his head and swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking.

"They are both in there," he breathed. "Neither of them are moving."

Thranduil shook his head in denial and dug his heels into his horse's sides, willing to risk his own life and ride through the flames. But Elrond reached out and grabbed the charger's mane, hating to see the pain in his friend's eyes.

"You cannot go in there!" he shouted. "The flames are too strong for anyone. To even _try_ and attempt it would be madness. You would be going to your death."

"What are you saying?" Thranduil hissed.

"There is nothing that you can do," Elrond said. "There is no way that you can get through to your sons. There is no way that _anyone_ can. I am sorry."

The King locked eyes with the older Elf, and shook his head. "No. No, I cannot and will not leave them."

It was too late that Elrond realised what his friend meant to do. Thranduil jumped from the charger and ran forwards. He threw his arms in front of his face, and dived without fear through the towering inferno, ignoring the shouts and cries of protest from behind him. All he knew was that he would not abandon his children.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	28. Now There Are Two

"Legolas! Legolas, where are you?" Thranduil yelled, dropping to the ground so that the flames licking at his cloak would be extinguished. "Legolas!"

When he got no reply, the Elven-king cursed, and crawled forwards through the smoke, keeping his body pressed close to the forest floor. As he looked wildly about, his normally tidy hair fell down into his eyes, blowing uncontrollably in the driving wind. Rain was still falling, but it was not enough to put out the fire. Heavier rain could only be prayed for.

There was a sudden sharp pain in Thranduil's hand, and he grimaced as the realisation hit that a shard of glass had been embedded in his skin. Glass? Why was there glass on the forest floor? But the questions were driven from his mind as yet another branch collapsed and fell to the ground, sparking furiously. He inhaled sharply, and threw himself out of harms way, just in time.

There came a faint cry from the other side of the clearing, and he snapped his head up quickly. Legolas…. Hope filled the King's heart, for at least his youngest still lived. He strained his eyes through the smoke, and breathed a sigh of relief as he saw both of his sons' outlines.

Saying a quick prayer to the Valar, Thranduil pushed himself off the ground and through to Legolas. His vision was obscured not just by smoke, but also tears. Whether they were tears of relief, sadness or anger, he would never know.

When he reached the bottom of the tree that his wife had fallen to her death from all those years ago, the Elven-king dropped to the ground next to his children. He ran his eyes quickly over their bodies, hoping against hope that they were both safe. Though, he only had to take one look at Airëlus to realise that he was too late for him.

"Ada…" Legolas breathed.

Thranduil did not speak as he reached out to take his eldest son's body. He feared that should he even try and say anything, he would be overcome with grief. He knew though, that there would come a time later on when he could grieve for Airëlus. He had to save his other child before that time, though.

"No, you cannot have him!" Legolas yelled, backing away.

"Do not be so stupid!" Thranduil snapped. "I do not have strength enough to take both of you."

The Prince shook his head in disbelief and pulled his brother closer to him, even as the flames continued roaring around them. But he was oblivious to it all. Thranduil stared in amazement for a moment before pushing Legolas' hands away. Laying his eldest son's body on the ground and not being able to shed tears for him was one of the hardest things that he had ever had to do. But he forced his attention back to his youngest child, and lifted him into his arms.

"Don't leave him," Legolas breathed, grabbing the front of his father's tunic. "You cannot leave Airëlus alone in here. Take him out first."

Thranduil spun around and ran forwards, tightening his grip as the Prince began to struggle. "I will come back for him. But I must get you out of here."

Legolas bit his lip and turned his face into the Elven-king's chest as smoke engulfed them. He wanted so much to go back to Airëlus, but deep down, he knew that he was too weak. But now there was something else to worry about: his father would be coming back into the flames. In doing that, he could be going straight to his death. There was a possibility that he could…

"We are nearly out of here. You are safe," Thranduil said softly, pausing to pull his cloak up so that their faces would be shielded when they ran through the flames.

The Prince nodded slowly as they went forwards. Fire licked at them, and they could not help but hiss in pain, but Thranduil blocked everything out and dived through, falling into the Elven soldiers on the other side who were valiantly trying to beat away some of the flames. Needless to say they were succeeding only a little.

"Your Highness!" Suithien cried, reaching out and pulling Legolas into his own arms.

"I am fine. Look after my son," Thranduil replied in a low voice. With that, he spun around and ran back into the blazing clearing, determined that he would emerge with Airëlus.

"Bring him through here," Lord Elrond ordered, shaking away the fear that he felt for his friend's safety. He pulled off his cloak and threw it down onto the soaking forest floor, watching in concern as Suithien made his way through the trees with the Prince.

As soon as he was free of any tight holds, Legolas pushed himself up from the ground. His whole body exploded in fresh waves of pain, but he forced himself to ignore it. "My father will not come out alive! He is going to die!"

"Legolas, lie still," Elrond commanded, gently pushing the younger Elf back down.

"But he…my father will…" the Prince began helplessly. "Please." He tried to fight against the restraint on his chest, but was immediately held back by hands on his shoulders. He looked up into the fearful faces of the twins.

"I am so sorry," Estel whispered, coming to kneel in front of his friend. He reached out and drew Legolas to him, lowering his eyes as guilt washed over him.

Although the Elf heard the words, he did not care for them. And when one of the twins draped a cloak over his trembling shoulders, he did not even notice. He just stared unseeingly straight ahead, silently praying over and over again that his father's life would be spared. If the King should be lost, he knew that there would be nothing which could save him from fading.

"Your father will live," Elrond said softly. "He has been very foolish, and yes, he risked his life. But look at the rain, pen-neth. It is much heavier now, and the flames will have been beaten down somewhat."

"That will not bring Airëlus back," Legolas muttered.

Estel drew in a sharp breath and sat back on his heels, holding his friend at arm's length. "Then it is true."

A stunned silence broken only by the roaring of the flames back in the clearing descended on the group as the realisation hit that the Crown Prince really was lost. All of them had held hope that he would live, that they had arrived in time to save him. Elrohir looked down at the ground with tear filled eyes, whilst Elrond and the gathered soldiers had to swallow down lumps in their throats. Elladan, however, knelt beside Legolas and touched a hand to his arm.

"I am so sorry," he said softly. "I did not imagine that…"

"Why so surprised?" Legolas asked, raising his head to look at everyone. "You knew that something was going to happen. All of you did. And Elladan, do not say that you did not imagine anything like this happening, because you did. Of course you did. After all, you were the one who had the dream. Why did you still hope for my brother's life?"

"Did _you_ give up hope?" Elladan asked softly.

Legolas nodded slowly. "Eventually. And I have no hope left now. My father will die in there, like my brothers." He paused, and pushed a lock of soaking hair off his face. "Tell me, why did it come as a shock to you that Airëlus is dead?"

"You are upset," Estel said softly. "But you must not give up hope. Not now, not at a time like this. I know that you are not one to give up your hope and beliefs."

"I want to know why you were shocked to learn of Airëlus' death," Legolas ground out.

Elladan sighed, and touched a hand to his friend's shoulder. "I thought that….When I heard that your father was going back in there, I presumed that….that Airëlus still lived. We all did."

"You presumed wrong," Legolas choked out.

Without saying a word, Estel moved slightly so that he was sitting next to the Elf instead of in front of him. He put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. Legolas tried to resist at first, but when he realised that there was comfort to be found in the embrace, he buried his face in the mortal's shoulder, letting his tears fall as freely as the rain.

Elrohir watched helplessly, wishing that there was something he could do to make the young Prince feel at least a little better. He knew though, that if Thranduil did not make it out of the fire, then Legolas' life would be destroyed. As a thought that was not his own entered his mind, the dark haired Elf turned to his twin and arched an eyebrow.

'_Calaen is dead, then?'_ Elladan asked in his mind.

'_I presume so. After all, Legolas said 'brothers' not 'brother', did he not? But what if Thranduil does not-_

'_Stop thinking like that!' _Elladan thought sharply. _'He will make it out of there alive. Whatever happened to positive thinking? Honestly, I know better than to come to you in a crisis. You would be no help, that's for sure.' _

Elrohir held up his hands in mock defence, and shook his head silently. _'Calm down, Elladan. I do not want you to flare up again, but the flames are still going strong. I just think that we should be prepared for-_

'_Ai Elbereth! I have already told you to stop thinking like that. In fact, just stop thinking,' _ Elladan said silently. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shutting his brother out of his mind as he did so.

Elrond watched his sons quietly, wishing he knew what they had been saying to each other. It was an ability that they had been gifted with ever since they were able to communicate properly, and needless to say that having to sit in a silent room with them, and then have one of them break into fits of laughter at random intervals, was more than irritating.

A sudden noise from just outside the trees alerted everyone, and they all watched and waited in anticipation. Every single Elf was praying to the Valar, none more so than Legolas. He sat up and held his breath, unaware of Estel grabbing his hand, for his attention was fixed entirely on any movement in front of him.

After what seemed an age but in reality was no more than a minute, the leaves in front of them rustled, and a slender figure came through, coughing and holding a hand to his chest. It was Thranduil, but at that moment, he looked nothing like the King he was: his tunic was ripped and burned, and his un-braided hair hung limply around his face, which was covered with smudges of dirt.

"Ada," Legolas breathed.

Thranduil sank to the ground next to his son, and the two locked eyes for a brief moment, before the elder reached out and pulled the younger forwards. Legolas inhaled sharply and threw his arms around his neck, a maelstrom of emotions whirling inside him: anger, relief, sadness, pain.

"I nearly lost you again," Thranduil whispered.

"I'm sorry," Legolas said helplessly.

"No, it does not matter now. You are safe." The Elven-king sighed deeply and looked up at Elrond, who stood a little way back. The elder Elf shook his head in silence, a gesture of sympathy.

"Where is Airëlus?" Legolas asked softly, biting back fresh tears that were threatening to spill.

Thranduil shook his head and got to his feet, pulling the Prince with him. "He is out of the clearing. He…his body is being taken care of."

"What do you mean?" Legolas whispered.

"A bier is being constructed for him, and he will be taken back to the palace, along with any others who have fallen." As he spoke, the Elven-king's voice choked with emotion, and his eyes shone with tears.

"Others that have fallen?" Elrond asked softly.

Thranduil looked across at the Noldor Elf, and sighed deeply. "Soldiers ran in after me. Not all made it out of there alive."

A tense silence fell on the group as more prayers were thought for the Elves who had so valiantly fallen in the path of the deadly flames. Legolas shook his head in confusion. He knew that Airëlus was dead, yet every part of him was screaming that it could not be true. As he glanced over at the trees, he half expected his brother to come walking through them. But deep down, he knew that would never happen.

"Your Highness, what of the fire?" Suithien asked sadly. "Is it in any condition to be fought down?"

"No, though it is not as bad as it was," Thranduil replied. "If the rain keeps up, then we will be lucky. Do what you think is best. I am sorry, I cannot…" He trailed off into silence, and shook his head helplessly.

"I understand," the commander said softly. "Your Highness, return to the palace. Leave us to deal with everything here."

"Thank you," Thranduil muttered, putting an arm around Legolas' shoulders. The younger Elf stifled a sob and leant into the embrace as he was led away from the group, silently followed by Lord Elrond and his sons.

The remaining warriors watched the departure of their King and last remaining Prince in sadness. Years ago, there had been five members of the Royal Family of Mirkwood. But now, now there were two. And their lives had just been viciously torn apart, and destroyed in the worst way possible.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	29. Tears to Cleanse the Soul

Thranduil watched as Elrond felt Legolas' shoulder, checking for any sign that additional damage had been caused to it. The Prince had not spoken in over an hour, giving no clue as to what feelings were inside him. The King himself, upon returning to the palace, had gone straight to his study and locked the door, having no wish to be disturbed whilst he grieved and turned over chairs and other objects. After ten minutes of doing just that, though, Thranduil had realized that his place was with his last remaining child.

"Is there anything else wrong with his shoulder?" the Sinda Elf asked, more to break the silence than anything else.

The healer shook his head and stood up from his place on the edge of the bed. "No, though it will be painful for a while. Do you have any more injuries, Legolas? I understand how you must be feeling at the present moment, but-

"No, you don't," the Prince cut in, his voice low and husky due to copious amounts of smoke inhalation. "How could you possibly know how I am feeling? Even I do not know that."

Elrond sighed and turned to face Thranduil, hating to watch as Legolas went through so much inner pain and turmoil. "How is your hand now?" he asked his friend.

"My hand? It is still there." In all that had happened, Thranduil had forgotten about his own injury.

"I did not mean that. Have you managed to get the glass out of it yet? I want to take a look at it," Elrond said.

"That is un-hygienic."

The dark haired Elf could not help but smile vaguely. Trust a Sinda to come out with something like that. "I am a healer. Believe me, I have dealt with worse things than a bloody shard of glass. Where is it?"

Thranduil made a face as he nodded in the general direction of the desk. "Over there, wrapped up in cloth, because _that_ is hygienic. But I do not understand. Why is it so important to you?"

"Does it not strike you as slightly strange that there was broken glass in the forest? It is suspicious, that is all," Elrond replied, picking up the shard and going across to the door. Had he glanced at Legolas, he would've seen the silver eyes flickering in recognition. "I will leave you two alone so that you may talk now. And that is exactly what you must do. You must not sit in silence." He looked meaningfully at the Prince, before turning and silently leaving the room.

"Elrond is right. We cannot sit in silence." Thranduil paused, and looked across at his son. "Tell me how you feel."

"I have already said that I do not know how I feel," Legolas muttered. "So much has happened in such a short time, and I don't…I cannot…" He broke off and hugged his knees to his chest, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.

"You cannot what?" Thranduil pressed gently. He wanted so much to shed tears for the child he had lost, but knew that he had to be strong for the one he had left. "Come, you must not shut out those around you. You will only feel as though you are alone."

"But I _am_ alone," Legolas whispered.

Thranduil sighed, and moved across to sit on the bed. "You will never be alone. I am here for you, and always will be. And you have the twins, and Estel."

"They can never replace Airëlus," Legolas snapped. He inhaled slowly, and swept a still damp lock of hair from his eyes. "I wish that…I wish that none of this had ever happened. I wish that I could turn back time."

"But there is no-one who has the power to do that," Thranduil said softly. "What would you change if you did, though?"

Legolas shrugged and fiddled absentmindedly with his sleeve. "Everything, I suppose. I mean, really, it is because of me that Airëlus is dead." Even as he finished speaking, panic flashed through the Prince's eyes: it sounded a lot worse out loud than it did in his head.

"His passing was not of your doing," Thranduil replied.

"But it was! And not just his death, but everything that has happened to this family," Legolas cried. "It started with Naneth, and that is why Calaen hated me. He hurt me so much, and I kept on wondering why. But I know now that I deserved everything that I got."

"No-

"Yes! I deserved everything that I got because I _am_ a murderer!" Legolas yelled, anger, pain, anguish, distress, so many different emotions, flickering in his eyes. "Not only did I kill Naneth, but I killed Calaen and Airëlus!"

Thranduil shook his head and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Calm yourself. I have not once blamed you for the death of your mother, and I am going to do no such thing where your brothers are concerned."

"But they are gone," Legolas whispered. "They are gone and I remain here. It should not have been Airëlus who was taken. The only reason he was even out there was me. And now he has passed on and…" The Prince broke off as his voice choked.

"You know that you would never willingly have allowed this to happen. You know and I know that had you been aware of what was going to happen, you would have tried to prevent it at all costs," Thranduil said softly. "Do you honestly, truly believe that Airëlus' death was caused by you and you alone?"

"I suppose not," Legolas sighed. "Although, I believe that I had _something_ to do with it. There is nothing you can say which will make me stop feeling this way, Ada. If I was not so stupid as to think that you and Airëlus had been…. None of this would have happened."

"Do you think that you are the only one who feels guilt?" Thranduil asked.

Legolas looked up in surprise, caught off his guard. "What do you mean? Why would anyone else feel guilty?"

"How do you know that I do not place some of the blame on myself? Inside, I could be screaming and cursing at myself because I let Airëlus ride to Rivendell, and I was not there when he died," Thranduil replied.

"But you do not feel that way, do you?" Legolas asked uncertainly.

"I am feeling many things," the Elven-king sighed. "And it is not just me. Elladan could be feeling guilty because his vision could have come a few days earlier. Estel could be feeling guilty because he let you go out in the forest on your own. Maybe he thinks that if he had gone with you, he could have helped you fight Calaen."

Legolas drew in a deep breath, and shook his head slightly. "I did not think of it that way."

"I did not expect you to," Thranduil replied. "I will not lie to you. These next few days, weeks, months are going to be hard for you. To lose a loved one at such a young age is the worst thing that could possibly happen. But think of it this way: when there are two loving people, one must always leave another behind, no matter how strong their love is. In this case, it is you and Airëlus. You were destined to part one day, yet only one of you would carry the burden of sorrow. You have spared him from going through the pain that you are now."

"But it is the same for you," Legolas said softly.

"That is true," Thranduil sighed. "If I had known that Airëlus' time was today, I would have said so many things to him, things that I have always wanted to say but kept to myself."

Legolas nodded slowly, and kept his gaze locked onto the Elven-king's. He tried to stop his eyes from filling, but found it an impossible task. Launching himself forwards, he threw his arms around Thranduil's neck, and allowed his tears to fall freely. His whole body trembled as he sobbed into his father's shoulder, finally letting his emotions escape.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry for everything."

"Apologize for nothing," the King said in a hushed voice. "Nothing in life goes wasted, and even this grief which we go through now will bring us closer to the true meaning of life, even if you cannot yet see it. Do you know why tears flow?"

Legolas drew back from the embrace, and slowly shook his head. "I suppose…I suppose because we have lost a loved one, and it is just our way of coping with the loss."

Smiling weakly at the answer, Thranduil reached out and brushed away some tears from his son's cheek. "You speak truly, but they also flow to protect our broken hearts and cleanse our spirits. All of this sorrow shows us the preciousness of love. This suffering will help you to become one who understands the pain in others' hearts."

"I never thought of it like that," Legolas said slowly. He paused, and looked up at his father. "Is it wrong that some of my tears are for Calaen?"

"No matter what he did, he was still your brother," Thranduil replied. "Did you love him?"

"Yes, I loved him," Legolas sighed. "What about you?"

"He treated you in the worst way possible, and it is because of him that we are grieving in this way. But yes, I loved him," Thranduil said softly. "Everything in life happens for a reason. I do not know the reasons as to why we are being put through this, but maybe one day, it will all be made clear to us."

He reached out and drew Legolas to him once more, vowing then and there that he would kill himself before seeing any more harm befall his youngest. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that Legolas was not just the youngest son, he was the _only_ son. That also meant that he was the Crown Prince of Mirkwood, heir to the throne.

Legolas remained oblivious to that, though. He exhaled deeply and buried his face into Thranduil's tunic as grief overcame him once more. Father and son sat like that for a long time, drawing apart only when they heard the sound of clattering horses down in the courtyard. The soldiers had returned with the bodies of the fallen.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	30. The Newcomer

Legolas sat in front of the desk, not even noticing as Thranduil paced up and down behind him. The two had just been about to go and look on the bodies of the fallen Elves, but Lord Elrond had met them in the corridor and protested, telling them that it was best to wait until things had been cleared up. Whatever that meant, they did not want to know.

"How do you feel now?" Thranduil asked, pausing in his pacing to put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"No different," Legolas replied. "How do you expect me to feel? Absolutely ecstatic that my brothers are dead?" As soon as he had finished speaking, the Prince bit down on his lip and closed his eyes.

Thranduil felt a moment's anger at the words, but it disappeared almost immediately. "I am sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask you. I should have thought before asking you."

"No, I am sorry for giving you a harsh answer," Legolas said, ending the sentence in a deep sigh. He leant forwards and began playing absentmindedly with a quill on the desk. He twirled it in his fingers, though he kept his attention fixed not on what he was doing, but straight ahead, out of the window.

Thranduil inhaled deeply and moved around to lean against the edge of the desk. He kept his gaze trained on Legolas, watching closely for any sign of emotion. None came. "You are very brave," he said quietly. "Either that, or you are hiding your true feelings again."

The Prince's eyes snapped up as he was jerked out of his reverie. He put the quill down, eyes narrowing slightly as he said, "I am not brave."

"It must be the other one, then," Thranduil said. He reached forwards, and touched a hand to his son's cheek. "Why are you so scared? You showed your grief before, but now, now you show nothing. Why choose now to hold back?"

"I suppose there is no point me telling you that I am doing no such thing," Legolas muttered. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "You are right. I _did_ show my grief earlier, but then I realised that it finalises everything."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil asked softly.

Legolas sighed, and lowered his gaze to the floor. "It seems as though I am living in a dream, and when I wake up, Airëlus will still be here. I know that will not happen, but crying for him makes it all the more real."

"Yes, I know what you mean," Thranduil replied. He paused, and his eyes flickered. "I am sorry, for what I am about to say will sound harsh to you, though that is not my intent. But you do understand that Airëlus is not coming back, don't you? You do understand that no matter how much you try and pretend that none of this is really happening, it is? All of this is real."

"Clearly you do not know what I mean, then," Legolas snapped, eyes blazing. "How can you possibly know if all you do is preach to me about what is real and what is not? I lost my brother not even a day ago. Do you honestly think that I want to be told of the reality of this situation? I know only too well of it!"

Thranduil hissed in frustration as Legolas jumped up and stormed over to the door. "You may have lost your brother, but I lost my son. Two sons, in fact. You at least were able to say goodbye to one of them."

"And you at least did not have to watch the way that Airëlus suffered before he died!" Legolas shouted. He spun swiftly, and grabbing a chair, threw it across the room. It the hall with a loud, but strangely satisfying crash.

The Elven-king moved to the side, out of harms way from the chair that had just been thrown. He glared at Legolas, though his expression softened almost immediately. The frustration in his eyes was not so fast to die down though, nor was the anger and pain that he felt inside. Taking a deep breath, he stepped towards his son, and held out a placating hand.

"I am being selfish," he said softly. "I am sorry."

"Do not apologize to me," Legolas muttered.

Thranduil shook his head slowly. "I never once imagined that we would be put in a position like this. And now that we have come to such a time, all that I want to do is help you. But I cannot. It is my temper and lack of patience that makes matters worse." He smiled, though there was no humour to it. "Your mother always said that they would fail me."

"You _do_ have a short temper, but do you really think there is _anything_ that could make matters worse?" Legolas asked softly. "Ada, when I was in the fire with Airëlus, I thought to myself that it would not matter if I was to die in there. Now though, I am glad that I kept going. And that is because of you."

"How is it that you have grown so much older and wiser in such a short amount of time?" Thranduil asked quietly.

'_That must be what death does to you,' _Legolas thought bitterly, but he forced himself to smile as he nodded towards the chair he had smashed. "If I had grown older and wiser, I would not have done that."

"Maybe," Thranduil replied.

Legolas sighed as he sat down once more. "It is stupid of me, I know, but I keep expecting Airëlus or Calaen to walk through the door. I just cannot believe that they have gone…either of them."

The Elven-king nodded, and despite his grief, smiled vaguely. "If everything was still the same, Airëlus would be in here, telling me how many Orcs his patrol brought down, and how many spiders had been killed. I would tell you to go elsewhere, because the conversation was serious, and I did not think you old enough to listen."

"But then Airëlus would protest, and would spend at least five minutes telling you that listening to such stories was for my own good, as it would help prepare me for what I will see when I am able to go out and fight," Legolas said quietly. "And then when you finally agreed to let me stay, he would look over at me, and smile."

"I always pretended not to notice that, but I did," Thranduil said. "He loved you so much, Legolas. He would have done anything for you."

"I know." The Prince paused, and his eyes flickered. "What of Calaen? What do you think he would be doing if he was here, and none of this had happened?"

"I…I cannot say," Thranduil sighed. "I knew Airëlus, and I _thought _that I knew Calaen. Obviously I was wrong. Now I see that whilst doing one thing he would be thinking another, and when saying one thing he would be meaning another."

"I do not think that anyone really knew him," Legolas said sadly.

Silence fell. It was true: who had _really_ known the dark Prince? Had he even known himself? He had known what he wanted, that was sure enough, but was that all there was to it? Thranduil sighed deeply. Part of him hated Calaen for all that he had done, but another part felt immensely sorry for him. There was even a part that still loved him, despite all that he had done.

"Ada?"

"I was just…thinking," Thranduil replied. "Worry not for me."

Legolas looked as though he wanted to question that statement, but was given no chance to do so, for there came a knock on the door. He was silent for a moment, wondering who it was, what they wanted, and whether he actually wanted to know. But then he glanced across at his father, and nodded once.

"Enter," Thranduil called.

The door opened ever so slowly, and it seemed to be a whole age before there was a gap large enough so that the person behind it would be revealed. But when that did indeed happen, the King's eyes widened in surprise, and Legolas jumped up from his seat, absolutely amazed.

"What…how…why are you…?" Thranduil fell silent, and shook his head in wonder.

"I expected you to say something like that," Gandalf remarked, walking into the room and pulling off his soaking wet hat and cloak.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	31. Reliving the Past

"Mithrandir, mae govannen," Thranduil said in amazement.

"It is good to see you," Gandalf replied. "I imagine that you are both wondering why I am here, but before we start that story, I must offer you my sincere condolences. Never did I believe that we would be meeting under circumstances such as these. And never did I believe that I would hear the trees mourn as they are."

"Forgive me for asking, but how is it that you know of our…situation?" Legolas asked softly.

The Wizard's blue eyes flickered slightly. "There is no need to ask forgiveness, pen-neth."

Legolas inclined his head briefly, and waited in silence for an answer to his question. He did not receive one though, for the door of the study opened, and Lord Elrond entered with his sons. Having already met Gandalf down in the courtyard, there was no surprise on their faces as they nodded grimly at him

"I see you found them, then," Elrond said.

"I did indeed," the Istar replied. "And I was also just about to tell them how I come to be here, though perhaps this is a story that you would also like to hear? Might I suggest that we take seats?"

If it was anyone else, they would not even have considered sitting in Thranduil's chair behind the desk. Not Gandalf. The Elven-king's eyes flickered, but he said nothing as he and Elrond took seats at the side of the room. Elladan and Elrohir chose to lean against the wall, whilst Legolas and Estel sat on the floor in front of them. The four Elves and the human watched the Istar impatiently, waiting for him to begin his story.

"Am I right in saying that you had a certain vision last night?" he asked eventually, looking over at Elladan.

The dark haired Elf glanced out of the window, and blinked in surprise. He had not realised that morning had fallen. "Yes. Yes, you are correct."

"Well, it was not only your good self who had such a vision," Gandalf continued. "It just so happened that I have been in Lothlorien these past weeks, visiting your grandparents. Nothing untoward had happened, which did not surprise me, but a few days ago, I was unceremoniously woken from slumber by Galadriel. She was rather emotional."

"Unceremonious and emotional?" Elrond asked. "I do not think I have ever heard those two words in the same sentence as the name of my mother-in-law."

Gandalf nodded and absent-mindedly lit his pipe, fully aware of the impatient stares fixed on him. "Well, that is why it worried me. When I questioned her, she told me that she had looked into her Mirror. She would tell me no more, claiming that it would be best if I saw for myself what had upset her so. I will go into no details, for I am sure that each of you know what I speak of, one more than the rest of you." As he finished his little speech, the Wizard fixed his gaze on Legolas, who lowered his eyes to the floor.

"Yes, we know," Thranduil said darkly.

"I knew that I must ride here with all speed, for mayhap there was a chance that I could prevent some tragic events from taking place. But alas! It seems that I arrived too late," Gandalf said, shaking his head sadly. "I was too late to save one special life, but not too late to save others. The fire was out of control, and there was no way that your Elves could have put it out on their own, Thranduil."

"What did you do to help them?" the King asked.

"All I did was utter a few simple words, and the skies opened," Gandalf replied. "I think you all knew that the rain already falling would never be enough to put out the fire. So, I helped it along a little."

Thranduil smiled briefly and inclined his head. "I am most grateful for everything that you have done. However, I do not think that Airëlus' life would have been spared, even if you had arrived sooner."

Gandalf nodded slowly and looked around the room, locking his eyes onto each face for a few seconds, before moving onto the next. Eventually, he snapped his gaze back to Thranduil. "I thought that there was someone missing. Tell me, where is Calaen."

"Did…did you not see his fate in the Mirror?" the Elf asked falteringly.

"No, only that of Airëlus," Gandalf replied. "Please, do not tell me that some tragedy has befallen your second born."

A tense silence filled the room, and Thranduil glanced across at his son, watching closely for a reaction. The younger Elf was chewing on his lip, and from the way he had just grimaced, it looked as though he had drawn blood. Elrond leaned forwards to explain what had happened, so that the Prince would be saved from having to do so himself, but Legolas surprised them all by cutting in.

"He is dead, Mithrandir. I killed him."

"I am sorry, pen-neth, but I am getting old, and my hearing is not what it used to be," Gandalf said. Of course that was not true – his hearing was as accurate as any Elf's in the room.

"Calaen died at my hands," Legolas said. He paused, and looked up at his father. "You did not know that, did you? Well, I am admitting it now in front of everyone. I killed my brother, your son. Are you still willing to stand by me, as you said earlier? Or will you go back on your word?"

"Never will I do that," Thranduil replied. "I know that what you did, you did for the right reasons."

"Thank you," Legolas said softly, unable to stop relief from flickering momentarily on his face.

The Elven-king locked eyes with his son for a moment, before looking back to Gandalf. "Was there more that you wished to speak of?"

"I think that both you and I would like to know more about that which has just been revealed, but I also think that it is best left alone for a while," Gandalf said wisely. "To answer your question properly, no, there is nothing else that I have to speak of."

When no-one else made any move to speak, Legolas stood up. "Lord Elrond, you said earlier that my father and I should wait before going to see Airëlus. Do you think it will be alright for us to go now?"

"I see no reason why not," the Noldor Elf replied.

"Ada…" Legolas said softly.

Thranduil sighed deeply, and rose. "If this is what you want, then we will go now."

"We will not come with you, for it is best that you do this as a family," Gandalf said gently. "Although, when you have finished, we will be here to talk, if you need to."

The Elven-king inclined his head as a gesture of thanks, before turning, and following his son from the room. Legolas closed his eyes tightly as they walked through the corridors, his mind unwillingly travelling back to that time, the time that an Elfling with no concept of death had had to look on the body of his mother

**Begin Flashback**

It was dark inside the mourning room, very dark. The only light that shone in was through a small window in the centre of one of the stone walls. In the middle of the depressing chamber were five marble tablets, and a familiar slender figure clad in a silver gown lay motionless upon one of them, hands folded upon her breast, fair hair spilling over her shoulders.

"Nana!" Legolas cried, struggling to get down from the tight grip he was held in. "Ada, let me go and see Nana!"

Thranduil stopped in front of the tablet that his wife lay on, and paused for a brief moment, before putting his son down on the ground. He closed his eyes to imprison the tears that threatened to spill, as the Elfling cried out in delight and touched a small hand to one of the Elven-queen's cold ones.

"Hello Nana," Legolas whispered. "Were you in the forest? Did you pick many flowers?" He pouted as no reply came. "Nana, talk to me. Please talk to me," he pleaded, shaking Findilan's limp arm. "I… Ada, why doesn't Nana want to see me or talk to me?"

"Ai Greenleaf, I am sorry," Thranduil said softly.

"Why? What have you done?" Legolas asked, looking up in confusion.

The Elven-king knelt down so that he was at eye level with his son, and drew in a deep breath. "Your mother is not going to speak with you."

"Why not?" Legolas breathed.

"She has passed on to a faraway place," Thranduil sighed.

"Where did she go? Can I go and see her?" the child asked, face brightening.

"She has gone where we cannot follow," the Sinda Elf replied. "You will see her again one day, but that day will not come for a very, very long time. Until then, you must keep her always in your heart and in your mind. That way, you will not forget her."

Silver tears filled Legolas' eyes, and he turned his face back to his still mother. "I don't understand," he whispered. "I don't understand."

**End Flashback**

"Are you sure you are ready for this?" Thranduil asked softly, touching a hand to his son's shoulder.

Legolas shook himself mentally, and raised his eyes to meet the Elven-king's. "Yes, I am ready. And you, Ada?"

"I will be ready to face anything, so long as I have you with me," Thranduil replied.

He smiled vaguely, before turning to the guards and nodding to them to open the doors to the Houses of Mourning. Legolas followed silently, heart pounding almost painfully against his chest. This was it. He was going to look on his brothers' bodies.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	32. Do Not Leave

Legolas froze in his tracks as they entered the main mourning hall. There were too many marble tablets built up from the ground – in case of a large number of deaths – to count, but it was clear to see that on just over seven, at least, there lay the dead bodies of the warriors who had so valiantly faced the blaze and perished in doing so.

"Legolas," Thranduil said softly.

"So many lives have been lost," the Prince muttered, watching sadly as an inconsolable Elf-maiden wept over a loved one. "But it is not just the lives of those warriors; it is also the lives of their families and friends. I did not stop to think that they would be facing what we are."

"I did not expect you to," Thranduil said. He turned his gaze away and swept it over the fallen soldiers who had so willingly served him over the past years. He could remember laughing with all of them, shouting commands at them, fighting beside them. Most of them had been there for him and his family when his wife had died.

They had fought the Shadow of Mirkwood ever since it descended all those years back, and had helped greatly to rid the forest of evil, had fought for the beauty it once was. Constantly they would battle Orcs, cut down spiders, and would return to the palace dirty and grim, but alive none the less. It was tragic that Nature had been the one to steal their lives, after so many years.

"I suppose we must do this," Legolas sighed, taking a deep breath and walking forwards. But no sooner had he done that, he jumped back again.

The Elven-king drew in a deep breath, and touched his son's shoulder. "What is it?"

"Suithien….he is dead," the Prince whispered.

"Ai, not Suithien," Thranduil muttered.

He walked forwards and looked down sadly at the commanding officer of Mirkwood's troops. The veteran warrior's blond hair lay fanned out across his shoulders, blue eyes closed to the world, and hands folded across his chest. The King sighed deeply, and motioned for Legolas to come forwards. The younger Elf did so, albeit very hesitantly. Never had he seen so many who had lost their lives.

"He should not have fallen," the Prince said softly.

"There is no-one in here who should have fallen," Thranduil replied. "But life is crueller than we know. It is strange that something so valuable can be swept out from under us when we least expect it."

"Very." Legolas touched a hand to Suithien's shoulder, and looked up at his father. "Ada, can we go to see Airëlus? I do not mean to be disrespectful, but…"

"Of course," Thranduil said. "You are still too young to look on something like that. But, you do understand that Calaen's body will be in there also? It is custom to have all members of the Royal Family together if…" He trailed off, and made a slight gesture with his hands.

Legolas nodded slowly, wondering if he really was ready to look on the one who had killed Airëlus, but then had also been killed at his own hands. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors to the Royal mourning room, the Prince kept his gaze fixed on the candles lining the walls, smiling without humour as he remembered jumping up to blow them out when he was an Elfling, before he had looked on his mother's body.

"I remember that also," Thranduil said softly, following his son's gaze. "You plunged us into complete darkness before long."

"You told me to stop, so I did," Legolas continued distantly. "And then I said that I wanted to see Naneth, so you took me to see her."

The Elven-king winced at the memory. "I handled that the wrong way. I should have told you before, instead of letting you see her for yourself."

"But you _did_ try," Legolas said. "Even I remember that. I was naïve, I was stupid."

Thranduil sighed, and flung an arm out in front of his son. "Stop."

"Ada?"

"I just…I just want to know if you really are ready for this. If you want to go back to the palace and do this at another time, I will understand. Because once we go into that room, there is no turning back, and-

"Ada, I am ready," Legolas cut in.

"Very well." Thranduil hesitated for a moment, before turning to the guards and nodding at them to open the doors.

The mourning room was no different than the last time that they had been in there. Precious little light shone through the small window set in the far wall, despite the fact that the sun had risen to her full height outside. That had also been the case when they had come to look on Findilan's body, all those years back.

"Ada, I thought you said that Calaen would be in here," Legolas whispered, flicking his eyes around the room.

Thranduil looked up, and started as he realised that his son spoke truthfully. Only one tablet was being used, and it was not occupied by a dark haired figure. Unable to properly answer the question that Legolas clearly wanted to ask, the Elven-king shook his head. He did not voice his thoughts, but he could not help feeling that something was far from right.

"Maybe he is being kept elsewhere," he said quietly, though it sounded lame even to his own ears.

Legolas did not reply as he went forwards, and dropped to one knee in front of the marble tablet that bore his brother. He bowed his head, and closed his eyes. "Airëlus…"

Thranduil reached down and touched a tender hand to his eldest son's pale forehead, running his eyes over the fallen Elf's body. In place of the light brown tunic and dark leggings that he had previously been wearing, he wore long robes of sapphire blue, and on his fair head there rested a golden circlet. He looked every inch the regal Crown Prince that he had been.

"Never have I seen him look so…so…" Legolas trailed off, and shook his head.

The Elven-king nodded his agreement, though he did not speak. He kept his gaze trained on Airëlus, though his vision was becoming obscured. He was so proud of his firstborn child, so proud that even if he had tried, he would have been unable to put the feeling into words. He closed his eyes, allowing silver tears to escape from under his lashes.

Legolas looked up, and was not surprised to see that his father, who was usually the epithet of strength, was crying. But he offered no comfort. He knew Thranduil well enough to be able to tell when he wanted consolation or not. So instead, the Prince contented himself with reaching out and putting his hand over Airëlus', letting his own tears fall silently.

"_No i Melain na le, ion-nin," _Thranduil murmured.

"Thank you, Airëlus," Legolas whispered. "Thank you for everything. Thank you for being the best brother, the best friend I could ever hope and wish for. Thank you for always being there for me, whenever I needed you. _Im meleth le, gwador."_

He clenched his fists and screwed up his eyes as grief overcame him. He had thought that he would be able to cope with seeing Airëlus' body, but it seemed that was not so. He wanted to cry out loud, and scream and cause destruction to everything around him. But more than anything, he wanted to bring his brother back. A sharp breath escaped his lips and he tried to hold it back, but couldn't. More and more came, until eventually he was sobbing, slamming his hand onto the side of the tablet that Airëlus lay on.

Pain flashed through Thranduil's eyes as he watched his youngest child losing control. "Don't do that," he breathed. "You must stop, for there is nothing that you can do."

"He is not dead," Legolas hissed. "He cannot be. Airëlus would not go where I cannot follow. I know that he would not do that to me." And then without warning, he grabbed his fallen brother by the front of his robes, and shook him.

"Legolas-

"Wake up, you're not dead!" the Prince said desperately. "You wouldn't do this to me, I know that you wouldn't."

Thranduil dropped to the ground next to his son, and pulled his hands away. "Cry as much as you want, but do not do that. You will only make yourself believe that he is still with us, but he is not. There is nothing that you can do."

"Why…?" Legolas shook his head helplessly as all the rage he had momentarily felt faded. "Why are you holding me back from him, Ada? Why…?"

"Because you will hurt yourself." Thranduil pulled the younger Elf close, and held him tightly. "Never would I hold you back from something that would not cause you pain, but this will. I cannot let you do this. Do you know what would happen to you if I did?"

Legolas shook his head mutely. '_Airëlus, forgive me,'_ he thought. _'I am so sorry.'_

"If I let you carry on in the way that you were, you would eventually believe your own words," Thranduil said softly. "You would convince yourself that he is still here. I don't know, maybe merely resting. And then, when the time comes for his body to be buried, you would stay away from the service. I do not want that to happen to you."

The Prince looked up, and shook his head slowly. "I do not believe that he still lives. I had a moment of despair, and it got out of hand. Thank you for bringing me back to my senses. I think that…. No, I do not know what I would have done, had you not stopped me."

Thranduil inclined his head and got to his feet, pulling Legolas with him. "Come; let us return to the palace. His burial service will be tomorrow, but you can come to see him again before that if you so wish. But now I think it best that you have some rest."

Legolas nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. He turned back to his brother, and placed a hand above his own heart. He held it there for a few seconds, before sweeping it down and to the side, as was the customary farewell gesture for the Elves. The King did the same, and they stood in silence for a while, as they looked for one of the last times upon Airëlus' body.

"Come," Thranduil said softly. He put an arm around his son's shoulders, pulling him close. "Be strong, ion-nin. If not for yourself, then for your brother."

"I will be strong," Legolas replied, though his voice choked with emotion.

The Elven-king pulled open the doors, and watched sadly as his youngest child passed through them. Then he turned back to the tablets, and inclined his head. _"Namaarie, Airëlus," _he murmured.

Taking a deep breath, Thranduil left the room, and softly closed the doors behind him. He leant against them for a moment, using them as a support, but then he turned his gaze upon Legolas, and the look on the Prince's face made his heart pound. He stepped forwards to the two guards that his son had been speaking with, and tried to remain calm as he said, "What is it?"

"Your Highness, Prince Legolas has just questioned us about Prince Calaen's body," one of the guards said.

"And? What of it?" Thranduil demanded.

The guard, Galarth, shifted nervously under the flashing eyes. "Your Highness, do you not know?"

"If I knew anything, then I would not be standing here asking you questions," the Elven-king snapped. "Answer me! What of Calaen's body?"

"I am sorry, but myself and countless others scoured the clearing where the fire was in search of the Prince," Galarth replied. "We found nothing, Your Highness."

Thranduil inhaled deeply, and without another word to the guards, spun on his heel and swiftly left the room, Legolas right behind him. He could not believe it. Nor did he know how to feel at the news. There were so many feasible explanations. Calaen's body merely had not been found, or the fire had devoured it. Or he was still alive.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_No i Melain na le_………………..May the Valar be with you

_Im meleth le, gwador_……………I love you, brother

_Namaarie_………………………..Farewell


	33. Fire That Never Dies

King Thranduil threw open the door to his study, not even noticing as it crashed against the wall and rebounded, nearly slamming against Legolas as he entered the room. "Mithrandir!"

"Ah, you have returned," Gandalf said softly. "I am afraid that whatever you have to say must wait, however important it is. Elrond and I wish to ask your son a few questions.

"Very well," Thranduil sighed. If it was anyone else, he would have made a stand, but there really was no point with the Wizard.

"You are quite welcome to stay if you wish," Gandalf continued.

The Elven-king made a noise of slight derision as he threw himself into a chair at the side of the room. "Well, I should think so. After all, this is _my_ study, and he is _my_ son."

"If you are going to be so childish, then I can send you elsewhere," Gandalf said sternly.

Legolas and Lord Elrond watched in mild amusement as Thranduil stared at the Istar in absolute disbelief, clearly stunned that he had just been spoken to as if he was a mere Elfling. Eventually, when he had gotten over the shock, he lowered his eyes to the floor and muttered a barely audible apology.

"Thank you," Gandalf said curtly. He looked over at Legolas, and his expression softened. "I can only imagine how hard this is going to be for you, but I must ask if you can tell us what took place in the forest."

"What is it that you wish to know?" the Prince asked in a low voice.

"I believe I am right in saying that upon arriving in the clearing, you found Airëlus, wounded," Gandalf said. "Could you tell me what happened after that?"

Legolas bit down on his lip and looked across at his father, who nodded reassuringly. He took a deep breath, and began speaking slowly. "I heard a voice behind me, so I turned around. It was Calaen. I took out my knife and challenged him to a fight. Looking back, I suppose it was foolish. He is…was stronger, and more experienced than I. But I was so angry."

Gandalf clicked his tongue sympathetically, and leaned forwards in his chair. "What happened then?"

"I was too weak to fight him. I know that now and knew it then, but I threw myself at him, despite that. I managed to get him on the floor. I do not know why I did not kill him then, while I had the chance. All I did was slash his arm with my knife." Legolas paused, and sighed deeply. "He threw me off, and….and he pulled my shirt off, and ripped away the bandage that I wore. In his hand was a phial, and Airëlus kept shouting at him. Calaen paid no attention."

"Do you know what was in the phial?" Gandalf asked softly.

Legolas shook his head. "No. But Airëlus did. He was even weaker than I, but he crawled forwards and tried to help me. Calaen just….just threw him across the clearing."

"You are doing well, pen-neth," Elrond said, watching sadly as the Prince swiped at glistening eyes.

Legolas exhaled deeply in an attempt to steady his voice. "I raised my hand to hit Calaen, but he grabbed my arm and threw it back. That is how I dislocated my shoulder." Unconsciously, he lifted a hand to said shoulder, a distant look in his eyes.

Thranduil leaned forwards and rested his head in his hands, tangling them in his hair. He had to fight hard not to explode as he heard of the abuse of his children. Gandalf looked up at the tense movement, and his eyes flickered with sympathy. Sighing, he motioned for Legolas to continue.

"Calaen felt remorse for what he had done, though," the Prince said. "He agreed to let us go, but said that there was something that he had to do. This is where the phial comes in."

"What did he do?" Gandalf asked quickly.

"He…" Legolas trailed off, and looked from the Wizard to Elrond. "What do you know of this?"

"When your father was in the clearing, he put his hand down on a shard of glass," the Noldor Elf explained. "I have been examining it this past half hour, and have come to the conclusion that it was once part of a phial. That phial held Dolruín."

Legolas did a double take, and stared at Elrond in disbelief. "Dol…Dolruín? Please, tell me that is not true. There could not have been Dolruín in the phial. There could not have!"

"I am sorry," Elrond said. "I have come across it many times before, and would recognize it anywhere. I am certain, as is Gandalf, that the phial held Dolruín."

Legolas lowered his eyes to the floor and stared in absolute horror for a moment, before jumping up from his seat and going over to the door. Thranduil was in front of him in an instant, concern written all over his face. He put a hand on his son's shoulder, and searched the silver eyes for answers.

"Why does that distress you so?" he asked softly.

"It…the phial…Calaen…" Legolas broke off and threw his father's hand away, only to push past him and run from the room.

Realisation suddenly hit, and when it did, it was painful. Thranduil drew in a sharp breath and made to go after his child, but Elrond came and put a hand on his shoulder, holding him still. He looked up into the Noldor Elf's eyes, and shook his head slowly, praying desperately that it was not true.

"He would not do something like that," he said in a low voice. "Calaen would not do something like that to Legolas."

"Do not rule it out," Elrond said. "He did everything else imaginable."

Gandalf cleared his throat. "I know full well what Dolruín is used for, but remain in the dark as to why Legolas is so distressed. Would one of you care to explain?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas ran as fast as he could through the corridors of the palace, not even sure of where he was going. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, and his breath came in short gasps as the full impact of what he had just learnt hit him over and over again. He should have known what was in the phial, he should have realised, and tried to fight.

"Am I so blind that I cannot see what is in front of me?" he muttered, swiping at his eyes.

"Clearly you are," Estel said, as he came around the corner only to be nearly run down by the Prince. One look at the tear stained face though, washed all humour away, and without asking any questions, he drew his friend to him.

The Elf closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, wishing that all of his troubles were as easy to let as a breath. "I cannot believe that I did not know. I have seen it before, and yet I did not know what he was going to use."

"What are you talking about?" Estel asked gently, taking a step back.

"Have you heard of Dolruín?" When the human shook his head slowly, Legolas sighed. "It is something that Men of the South use as a torture method. They will badly beat their prisoners, and pour Dolruín into the wounds. Whether they are healed or not, the injuries will burn as though on fire. It is one of the worst things to happen to someone."

"But what does it do?" Estel asked. "What is the point of it?"

"What point?" Legolas shook his head and laughed bitterly. "There is something in it. Do not ask me what, for I cannot answer you. But when that herb gets inside open wounds, it stays in there. No matter how much you wash it, it will not and cannot be removed."

"So, what then?" Estel shook his head slightly. "Does it cause everlasting pain to the wound?"

Without saying a word, Legolas lifted his shirt, and he could see that it took everything in the human's power not to jump back in shock. But he had good reason to be shocked. The word that had been so cruelly engraved into the Prince's abdomen burned with a fire that could never be quenched. As each individual letter leapt out at him, Estel shook his head in disbelief at the abuse of his friend.

"It will stay this way for as long as I live," Legolas whispered, pulling his shirt back down so that word would be hidden. Tears of pain and anguish fell from under his lashes as he was pulled back into an embrace. But he immediately jerked away.

"Do not shut me out," Estel said softly. "I will help you through this time."

"I do not want help from anyone," the Prince muttered. "Not now. Not now that my true identity can be revealed to those around me. Do you not understand? This is….this is something that I must live with forever. Calaen did this to leave an everlasting mark on me, a mark which will serve as a constant reminder of what I have done."

"You have done nothing, mellon-nin," Estel said, shaking his head sadly.

"Do not call me that," Legolas replied, his voice choking with emotion. "I cannot see why you would want to be friends with a murderer."

He held the mortal's gaze for only a moment, before pushing past him and walking away. Estel stared straight ahead, unable to stop tears from gathering in his own eyes. A door slammed from somewhere down the corridor, and as the sound echoed around him, he was powerless to stop them from falling.

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	34. Not Alone

"Calaen used Dolruín on Legolas' wound?" Elrohir shook his head angrily, stormy eyes blazing.

"You should be thankful that you did not have to see it," Estel said sadly. "You remember what it was like when he was having his bandage changed? It was worse even than it was then. And Legolas…I have not shed tears for a good few years. I did when he told me."

"What happened then?" Elrohir sighed.

"I told him I would help him, but he refused me," Estel replied. "He has convinced himself that he is a murderer."

Over by the window, Elladan drew in a deep breath. "I knew that something was wrong with Calaen even before this happened. But now I know that he was cold inside. He had no heart."

"Everyone has a heart," Elrohir said sadly. "There are just some people, like Calaen, who forget that. They forget how to love."

"He felt remorse for what he had done," Estel said. "Or so Ada told me."

"That is no excuse for anything," Elladan hissed.

"I never said it was!" the mortal flared.

Elrohir held up a hand as his twin made to retort. "Quiet, both of you. Things are bad enough already without you two acting like children."

"Where is Legolas now?" Elladan asked, ignoring the comment.

"He locked himself in his room," Estel replied. "This is getting to be too much for him. You are lucky that you were spared from seeing the pain in his eyes, and hearing the heartache in his voice. And I fear that Thranduil is not faring well. I passed him in the corridor on the way here. He tried to hide them, but I saw the tears in his eyes."

Elrohir nodded sadly. "I am not surprised. He has lost two of his children."

"Will they get through this?" Estel asked softly.

Elladan shook his head, and spread his hands helplessly. "No-one can answer that question at such an early stage. But Calaen really has struck deep within Legolas' soul. All we can do is pray for him."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"What am I going to do?" Thranduil asked, helpless for one of the first times in his life. "Calaen has destroyed everything. He took Airëlus' life and he has as good as taken Legolas'. I would kill him without hesitation, if I could."

"But whatever he did, he was still your son. Nothing can change that," Elrond said quietly.

In one swift movement, the Elven-king had jumped to his feet, kicked over a chair and slammed his fist into the wall. "It is because of him that Legolas has locked himself away, convinced that he is a murderer! My eldest son lies dead because of him! How would you feel if Elrohir had done something like this?"

"He would never even think of it," Elrond said coldly.

"Elladan, then."

The Elven-lord narrowed his eyes to mere slits. "Neither Elladan nor Elrohir would ever do something like this. I know my sons, Thranduil."

"And I thought I knew mine." The Sinda Elf turned away, and stared unseeingly at the opposite wall.

"Forgive me," Elrond sighed. "I should not have spoken so."

Thranduil shook his head dismissively, and went across to the desk. He pulled out one of the drawers, and proceeded to push various maps and letters out of the way, until he finally found what he was looking for. Smiling sadly, he handed one piece of parchment to Elrond, the other to Gandalf.

"This is admirable artwork," the Wizard said. "Was it done by your hand?"

"No. Airëlus is the…was the one blessed with artistic talents," Thranduil replied softly. "The picture that you hold, Mithrandir, was done by memory."

Gandalf smiled, and looked down once more at the drawing. It was of Calaen and Legolas, both a lot younger, obviously years before shadow had fallen upon the former's heart. The dark haired Prince was holding the Elfling high up in the air, laughing and smiling as he spun him around.

"Airëlus always drew portraits of his brothers," Thranduil explained. "He liked to capture special moments."

"What of this one?" Elrond asked, nodding down at the piece of parchment he held.

The Elven-king's eyes flashed, and he shook his head. "That one…it was done only a few years back. The four of us were in the family room. I noticed that there was tension in the air between Legolas and Calaen, but I assumed that it was just another one of their arguments. I know differently now."

**Begin Flashback**

"I can do it. Just you watch," Airëlus said. He turned his arrow upside down, and attempted to balance it on his finger.

"You are fighting a losing battle," Thranduil pointed out.

The Crown Prince looked up, and shook his head sadly. "You have so little faith in me. Now, I am not leaving this room until I have balanced this arrow on my finger. It will not take long. Just wait a while longer."

"We have been waiting for five hours already," Legolas complained, looking up from the book that he was reading on the floor next to his father's chair.

"Stop exaggerating, Elfling," Airëlus said. "It has not been five hours."

"Near enough," Thranduil muttered.

"You cannot do it," Legolas said. "Just admit it. Give up."

Airëlus sighed, and dropped his arrow to the floor. "Fine, I give up. It is nice to know that my family have such faith in me. Why don't one of you two have a go? I think you will find that it is actually quite a lot harder than it looks."

Legolas went to where the arrow lay next to the door, and knelt down to pick it up. No sooner had he dropped to the ground though, the door flew open. He jumped back just in time to avoid being hit by it, but it was close. When he looked up, it was emerald green eyes that he met. He winced and went back over to the side of his father's chair, ignoring the arrow that remained on the floor.

Calaen though, reached down and picked it up. "Airëlus, is this yours?"

"Not mine. Give it to Legolas," the Crown Prince replied, picking up the leather bound book which he used to draw in.

"Here you are then," Calaen said, holding the arrow out to his younger brother.

Legolas reached out and took it, inclining his head slightly as a way of thanks. His blue eyes met green ones, and the gaze was held for a brief moment, before the dark haired Elf turned sharply and threw himself into a chair. The younger Prince lay the arrow down on the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them close.

Airëlus' eyes flickered slightly as he began to draw. He had not missed the cold look on Calaen's face, the fearful one on Legolas'.

**End Flashback**

"Like me, Airëlus assumed that they had been arguing in the day, and that was just the aftermath of it." Thranduil sighed deeply and shook his head. He was silent for a moment, but then he slammed a hand against the desk. "How long did Legolas live in terror for? How did I fail to realise that my own son was being abused? What type of father am I? I failed to protect him when Calaen was here, and even now I cannot help him. I promised that I would be here for him, and I want to keep that promise, but how can I? Whenever-

"Thranduil Oropherion!" Gandalf shouted, his blue eyes flashing. "You will either keep the promise that you made Legolas, or face my wrath! The child will not heal without your help. How do you expect him to recover on his own?"

The Elven-king bit down on his lip. "I want to help Legolas more than anything. But…what do I do now? How do I do it?"

"You go now and you talk to him," Gandalf replied, taking the Elf by the arm and leading him towards the door. "I do not wish to see you again until you have spoken to your son. Go!"

Elrond smiled sadly as Thranduil nodded and left the room swiftly. "I fear that you are too hard on him, Gandalf. He is not at fault. He just does not know what to say to Legolas."

"I know perfectly well that he is not at fault," the Wizard replied, lighting his pipe again. "And as for speaking with Legolas…he must speak from his heart."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas lay curled up on his bed, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest. He had shed no more tears, for he had come to the conclusion that nothing was going to change, no matter how much he wanted it to. And tears would not help matters at all. They did not even make him feel better, so what point was there to them anyway?

The Prince tensed suddenly, as there was a knocking on the door. He opened his mouth to tell whoever it was to leave him in peace, but then he swiftly closed it again. Maybe if they thought that he was asleep they would leave anyway. And if not…well, the door was locked, so unless they had a key, they would have problems trying to get into the room.

"Legolas, let me in."

"No," the Elf whispered, though he knew his words would not be heard. "Not now, Ada."

"Please," Thranduil pressed from outside. "Do not shut me out. I only wish to speak with you. Please, unlock the door."

The Prince closed his eyes briefly, and shook his head. "I wish to be alone. Is that so much to ask?"

"I am not leaving until you let me in!" Thranduil snapped.

"Then stay out there, then!" Legolas hissed back. He flinched as a fist was thrown against the door. "Ada, that will not get you anywhere!"

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"If you don't let me in, then I will break the door down!" Thranduil leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. "Please, what is it that you are afraid of? Do you believe that I think any less of you because of what happened? That is not so, Legolas. Now, you know full well that I will break this door down, so…" He fell silent as a key turned in the lock.

Legolas pulled open the door and glared at his father for a moment, before spinning on his heel and going back to lie on the bed. "There, I have let you in. You can speak for as long as you wish, but do not expect much of a response."

"Fine. You do not need to say anything, I just want you to listen to me," Thranduil said. "Legolas, I will not lie to you. What Calaen has done is…awful. It should never have happened, but it did. There is no way that anyone can change that. No matter how much you pray, time will not be reversed. But that should not matter. It should not hold you back from life. You are a beautiful, amazing, wonderful child. I could ask for no better."

"I am not a child," Legolas muttered.

"You are. And even when you are an adult, you will still be _my_ child," Thranduil said gently. "I know the pain and heartache that you are going through right now. It will pass with time. And it will pass so much more quickly if you let me help you."

"You said that…that I should not be held back from my life by what has happened to me," Legolas said slowly, pushing himself into a sitting position and looking across at his father. "But I cannot see how my life will not change. You know what Dolruín does, Ada. You know that it can never be gotten rid of. I will have to live with this for the rest of my life."

"But not alone," Thranduil said softly.

Legolas sighed, and shook his head. "But why do you want to help me? I am a murderer, and Calaen did this so that everyone would find out. What do you think people will say when they realise that I have killed?"

"I have also killed," Thranduil said. "In battle I have killed many. Does that make me a murderer?"

"No, but that is different," Legolas replied. "You killed for your country, your people. I killed for one life: my life. I took his so that mine would be spared."

"That may be so, but it was not an act of selfishness," the Elven-king said. "What do you want for yourself? Do you want to remain unhappy for the rest of your life, locked away behind iron bars that you have built? Or do you want to try and right all of the wrongs in your life?"

"I want to wake up in a minute and find that none of this has happened, and I have just been dreaming," Legolas said softly. "I don't want my body marked by this….this word. I just want everything to be different."

"It can be if you accept my help," Thranduil said. He took a chance, and sat on the bed in front of his son. "Back when you were an Elfling, you came to my rooms one night, because you did not like the thunder. But then you told me that you were no longer afraid, because I could chase away all of the bad things. That is exactly what you said, and never will I forget those words. Let me do that for you now."

"But this is very different to thunder," Legolas said.

Thranduil sighed, and touched a hand to the Prince's shoulder. "When I heard you say those words all those years ago, I doubted them. I did not think that I would always be here to fight away your fears, no matter how much I wanted to. Life is not that simple. But I will _always _try to. I will _always_ be here for you. Let me help you."

Legolas inhaled, and bit down on his lip. "Yes. Yes, I will let you."

"And I will not let you down," Thranduil replied. "I promise."

"Thank you," the Prince said quietly.

The Elven-king drew his son close, and let out a deep breath of relief that he did not know he had held. "You will get through this. And you will not be alone."

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	35. It Is Time

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Elrohir asked, stepping forwards and putting a restraining hand on Estel's shoulder. "I do not think that Legolas will want us in with him today. Airëlus is being laid to rest this day, and it will be the last time he ever looks on him."

"You are giving excuses for him _not_ to be alone," Elladan said, pulling his twin back and pushing the mortal towards the door. "We just want to make sure he is alright, nothing more. If what you say is true, and he would rather be left alone, then we will leave him in peace."

Elrohir rolled his eyes. "You should know how he feels, 'Dan. After all, you are the one who has the visions."

"Do not quarrel today," Estel hissed. He glared at the two Elves for a moment, before raising his arm and knocking on the door. There was a tense silence for a moment, but when they were given permission to enter, poorly disguised relief flitted across all three faces.

"Think before you speak," Elrohir muttered, following his brothers into the room.

Legolas was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing not his usual shades of dark green and blue. Instead, he wore a long silver tunic, which shimmered when he moved, or when the sun shining through the window caught it. His long golden hair was flowing loose, though he held one lock in his hand. He had clearly been trying to braid it himself, but the shaking of his hands was visible even from the door.

"I never once envisioned myself getting ready to witness the burial of my own brother," he said softly.

Elladan and Elrohir bowed their heads, but Estel went forwards to sit beside his friend. "It is not something that one normally thinks of. How are you feeling?"

Honestly? Better than I have done since…well, since it happened," Legolas replied. "Does that sound strange? I spoke with my father last night, and he said he would help me get through this. I did not believe at first that I would be able to, but now…I don't know. I think I can believe his words, though. But it still feels wrong that I feel no grief."

"You do feel grief," Elrohir said softly. "There is no point saying that you will just be able to breeze through these next few days, because that would just give you false hope. You show no grief on the outside, but your heart feels it."

"I know. I can feel it hurting," Legolas said in a low voice. He glared down at the half completed braid in his hand, and tucked it behind his ear.

"Do not expect things to change immediately." Elladan sat behind his friend on the bed, and pulled a lock of golden hair towards him. "Do you want me to do this for you?"

"Thank you." Legolas glanced out of the window, up at the clouds, and sighed. "It is not long before we leave."

"Do you know what the…the procedure will be?" Elrohir asked carefully.

"There is going to be a service for everyone who died that night," the Prince replied distantly. "All of the soldiers' bodies will be in the mausoleum after the service. Airëlus told me once that he would rather be buried out in the woods, so that he would be 'free to breathe'. I laughed when he said that. I do not find it funny any more."

"So he is being buried in the forest?" Estel asked. "That is nice."

Legolas nodded, and the Elf behind him tugged meaningfully on his braid. "Sorry. But yes, it is nice. His first wish was to be buried in the clearing that our mother died in. But that…well, the fire has destroyed it. But there was another spot that he enjoyed going to, so he will be laid to rest there."

Elladan shot Elrohir a sideways glance, surprised at the calm way in which their friend spoke of his eldest brother. They had not expected this, although they would not deny that this was better for him. They both noticed though, that nothing had been said about Calaen. They also both knew not to mention him, especially today of all days.

A silence so loud that it seemed almost to be deafening filled the room. Normally, the quietness would have been broken from noises down in the courtyard, or the training fields. But today, everything and everyone was still, mourning for their Crown Prince and the warriors who had lost their lives. Even the birds seemed to know of the importance of the day, for not one of them made a noise.

The door was quietly opened, and the group of friends looked up to see Thranduil coming in. He wore long robes of a deep, imperial blue in place of the green tunic that he had been wearing the last few days, and upon his golden head was a crown of holly leaves. He looked far from happy – who could blame him? – but he forced a smile upon his face, merely for the sake of his child.

Elrohir and Estel nodded respectfully, and quickly went across to the door, sharing an understanding that it would be best to leave father and son alone in the few minutes before the service. Elladan swiftly finished braiding the other side of Legolas' hair, and touched a hand to his friend's shoulder as he got off the bed to follow his brothers.

"Legolas, I…" Thranduil sat beside his son, and shook his head slightly. "I am sorry. I should have told you before, but I did not get the chance."

"Ada? What are you talking about?"

The Elven-king sighed deeply as he pulled a golden circlet from behind his back. "This."

"That is Airëlus'," Legolas said slowly. "Why have you brought it in here?"

"You are now the Crown Prince of Mirkwood," Thranduil replied. "I do not expect you to take on the duties that your brother had to take care of even for a few years yet. I do not believe you to be old enough. But-

"Ada, why have you brought it in here?" Legolas pressed.

"It was mine once, and when Airëlus was born, it became his. Now it is yours. It is tradition for it to be passed down, and-

"Leave tradition out of this," the Prince snapped. "I cannot wear that. Not yet, anyway. It is too soon."

"Yes, I know. If you had let me finish, I would have said that I understand you will need time to get used to the idea." Thranduil shook his head slightly. "Of course you do not want to start wearing it straight away. When you wear it, our people will look to you as their Crown Prince. Do you really think I would force that upon you today of all days?"

Legolas sighed deeply. "I am sorry. I know that you would not do that. I just jumped to conclusions. Forgive me for snapping at you."

"It is no matter," the King replied.

"Ada…" Legolas looked up, a strange expression on his face. "That circlet is not mine. If Calaen still lives, then it should be his. He is next in line for the throne, not me."

"Do you honestly think I want him ruling Mirkwood?" Thranduil asked. "And do not presume to know his fate, ion-nin. We do not know whether he is still alive. I was going to discuss it with Mithrandir yesterday, but he…well, he threw me out of my study."

The Prince's eyes flickered. "He threw you out of your own study? Ada, I thought that you were the King."

"Yes well, status means nothing to foul tempered Istari," Thranduil muttered. He shook himself mentally, and passed his son the silver circlet which lay on the desk. "Here. Try and forget that I ever mentioned anything about becoming the Crown Prince."

Legolas nodded slowly, and glanced sideways. "Are you ready for this, Ada?"

"As ready as I will ever be," Thranduil sighed. "And you?"

"You promised me yesterday that I will get through this. I believe you. Seeing Airëlus for the last time will be painful, but I knew it would come sooner or later," the Prince replied. "Like you said, we will get through this."

Thranduil smiled, and touched a hand to his son's shoulder. "This is about you. _You _will get through it, was what I said."

"And I am saying that _we_ will get through it," Legolas amended

The two locked eyes for a brief moment, each giving the other the reassurance that they needed. And then the tolling of a bell outside broke into their reveries, jerking them back to reality. It sounded twelve times. And then fell silent. The Prince bit down on his lip, realizing with a horrible and painful jolt that this was it. He was going to have to say goodbye to Airëlus for the last time.

"Come," Thranduil said softly. "It is time…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………


	36. Final Goodbyes

The Elves of Mirkwood gathered near the walls in the large mausoleum, with sombre faces and tears that fell silently like the leaves outside. Some looked to those stood around them, trying desperately to understand what was happening. Others kept their eyes, deep and filled with pain, fixed on the ground. One or two of the older Elves tried not to break down, but the tension was enough to make even the strongest crumble. They waited. The biers would be brought in any time soon.

King Thranduil looked around, noticing but not really seeing. His emotion filled eyes fell on Lord Celeborn, who stood silently at the opposite wall, and behind him were Haldir, the March-warden of Lórien, and a whole host of Elves who were clad in the garb of the Golden Wood. He was not entirely sure how they came to be there, though he suspected it had something to do with Galadriel and her Mirror. Not that he cared, though.

Exhaling deeply, Thranduil stole a glance at Legolas, who was standing quietly at his side. No tears fell from the young Elf's eyes, though they were filled with pain. He kept his silver gaze on a monument that had long ago been carved of Oropher, after the Last Alliance. He had spoken not a single word since hearing the tolling of the bell.

There was a slight noise from the end of the room, and everyone jerked their heads up. The doors to the mausoleum had just been opened, and it was the Lady Galadriel who walked slowly in. She wore a long dress of gold, it seemed, though there was not one single word which could describe its hue, as was common among the Galadhrim. Her footsteps fell lightly, so lightly that one would think her to be floating. Her face remained impassive, though she could not hide the sorrow in her sapphire eyes.

Legolas drew in a sharp breath as he looked past the Lady, and out into the courtyard. "Ada, they are…"

"I know," Thranduil said softly.

The Prince nodded in determination, and watched as a silent procession made their way through the large doors and into the mausoleum. Walking just behind Galadriel were four soldiers, bearing a bier which held Airëlus' body. Wreaths of flowers had been lain around his slender form, and his fair hair was loose, spread across his shoulders. Legolas bit down on his lip, hoping and praying for the strength to get through it.

Behind this bier were other groups of four soldiers who bore the bodies of their fallen comrades. All of them tried to hold their emotions back and keep the stoic expressions on their faces, although there was not a single one of them who could deny that his eyes had not remained dry. They had fought, jested, been through a lot with those who had passed on.

"King Thranduil," Galadriel said softly.

"My Lady," the Sinda Elf replied. He looked up at her and inclined his head briefly, willing to forget all animosity for that day.

Galadriel held the Elven-lord's gaze for a moment, before lowering her eyes to meet those of the young Prince. They flickered with a mix of different emotions – sorrow, regret, pity. She had seen much of Legolas' plight, and that he had had to go through such an ordeal at such an age upset her greatly. There was not a lot in the world that disturbed her any more, but this….this was different.

Legolas dropped his gaze to the ground immediately. He had heard of her powers, and was loath to have his thoughts read when all he wanted was to keep them hidden. But as he sensed her moving away, he looked up again. He knew what was coming, but still drew in a sharp breath as he laid eyes upon the brother that he had lost.

The soldiers walked slowly down the passage that had been created for them, stopping every once in a while to let the gathered Elves touch a hand to the bodies of the fallen, and say silent prayers as they did so. But as they came to a halt in front of the King and Prince, everyone respectfully averted their eyes.

"_Na sídh, gwador-nin," _Legolas whispered.

Thranduil was silent as he looked into his eldest child's face, and if anyone was to glance up, they would have seen the battle that raged within his eyes. It was as though part of him was not ready to say goodbye, but the other part knew full well that there was nothing else that could be done. He shook his head slightly, as though trying to straighten out the confused thoughts in his mind, and slowly reached out a hand to touch it to Airëlus' cheek. "_Namaarie, ion-nin," _he said softly.

The soldiers slowly continued their journey down to the end of the long chamber, the Prince's bier followed by those of the warriors who had lost their lives. This time though, the procession did not stop in front of the Royals, though both King and Prince thought prayers for the fallen ones.

On the opposite side of the large chamber, Estel stood with Elladan and Elrohir, their father just a little way away. The twins wore identical robes of dusky blue, whilst the mortal wore his usual formal attire, as he had not bothered to pack anything else when leaving Rivendell all those days back. Sighing heavily, he glanced across at Legolas, and forced himself to give his friend what he hoped was a reassuring smile. The Elf merely inclined his head briefly, before snapping his attention back to the dais, where Airëlus had been lain on a marble tablet in front of Galadriel. The fallen warriors were being lain on tablets on one of the lower platforms.

"Friends, we are here today to mourn the passing of our loved ones," the Lady said softly, though every word was caught. "This is for the dead, but also for us. We are leaving the fallen ones in the hands of Eru, with the trust that you will meet them again. Their bodies remain here, yet their souls have departed.

"Life is a long journey, full of love, light, and freedom. Yet every one of us will experience heartache, loss, and sorrow." At this, Galadriel let her eyes rest first of all on Thranduil, then Legolas. "Your loved ones have found another world, away from all of that. But grieve not. Instead, rejoice, and celebrate their lives."

The Prince smiled briefly, although, like everything else that he had said or done in the past week, it was without the slightest trace of humor. He had never thought to celebrate death, but celebrating life did not sound so bad. Feeling only slightly heartened, he looked away from Galadriel, who was murmuring an Elvish prayer.

He slowly scanned the congregation standing at the opposite wall. He took in their falling tears and ashen faces, and wondered at the fact that he had shown no such signs of grief or despair as of yet. His eyes swept over someone standing by the door, but no sooner had they passed, he immediately flicked them back again. It was an Elf, that much was clear by their slender build, and long dark hair that fell past their shoulders. The stranger had bowed his head, face covered by a hood, and… Wait a minute: dark hair?

Legolas' heart stopped, and his mouth ran dry as paranoia set in. Could it…? No, it was not Calaen. He was not fool enough to return to the palace, especially on a day like this. The Prince exhaled deeply, feeling angry with himself. He could not panic every time that he saw a dark haired Elf; that would be taking things to the extreme. But even with that thought still in his mind, he moved a little closer to his father.

Thranduil looked down at his son and inclined his head briefly, before directing his attention back to Galadriel. Legolas swallowed nervously, and flicked his eyes across to the dark haired Elf who still stood close by the doors. Maybe it was Elladan or Elro – No, they were directly opposite him.

The stranger pulled his cloak tighter around his slender body, and moved slowly nearer to the doors, keeping his face turned down to the ground. Legolas' heart pounded painfully against his chest, and he drew in a sharp breath as panic set in. It went unnoticed though – everyone thought it to be held back grief. The Elven-king wrapped an arm around his son's waist and pulled him close, in a rare moment of public affection.

"Ada, it is…he…" Legolas broke off and jerked his head towards the doors.

"Hush," Thranduil whispered. He could feel the trembling of the Prince's body, and turned him slightly so that he was facing away from the dais. "Do not do this now. Just…just try and get through this. Please."

Legolas closed his eyes for a brief moment, before raising himself slightly to look over his father's shoulder. The Elf with the dark hair had reached the doors, one slender hand moving to open them. He kept his face down, but raised his eyes. Green orbs met blue, and the latter widened in shock. He stared in horror as the stranger turned and silently left the mausoleum.

"I'm sorry," Legolas muttered. He pulled himself from Thranduil's hold, and brushing past him, ran up the passage, ignoring hushed exclamations from either side.

The Elven-king sighed deeply, but made no move to follow his son. _'I cannot force you to be here, but you should. You will regret this, ion-nin, and you will wish that you had not left. But you must do as you wish.'_

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas pushed open the heavy doors and ran out into the courtyard, eyes constantly flicking around, searching for the dark haired Elf. In the middle of the large vicinity was a three tiered fountain, and standing just beside it, staring at the flowing water, was the stranger from inside the mausoleum. His hands were clasped behind his back, and if one watched closely, they would see the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders, and see that he was constantly sighing.

'_I will not let him defeat me again,' _Legolas thought, determination crossing his face. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and pushed himself forwards. He jumped lightly, landing just behind the dark haired Elf. And without giving the other a chance to speak or even _try_ and defend himself, he grabbed the stranger, and pulled him around.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"What are you talking about?" The other Elf reached up a hand, and pulled the hood down from his face.

Legolas took a step back, and his eyes flickered slightly. "I remember you. At least, I remember your face. I do not remember your name. In fact, I did not even know your name."

"Berian."

"Oh. Well, Berian, I am sorry. Forgive me for attacking you like that," the Prince said. "But what are you doing here?"

The guard from Rivendell sat down on the edge of the fountain, and smiled sadly. "Your brother turned up in Imladris not that long ago, looking for Lord Elrond and his sons. They had already left. Prince Airëlus was tired, as were his riders. It was suggested they rest for a while, but he wanted to journey straight back here. He did not stop to think about it, he just jumped on his horse and rode off. One of his riders wanted to go after him, but foolishly, I…I said it would be best if they rested awhile in Rivendell, and caught up with him later. Had I known, I would not have…"

"You had no way of knowing," Legolas sighed. "But why are you here? The only other Elves from Imladris that I have seen are Lord Elrond and his sons."

"The riders grew tired of waiting after a few hours, so they decided to go after Prince Airëlus," Berian replied. "But I was suddenly struck with a desire to see Mirkwood. After all, this is my old home. And so I came with them."

Legolas nodded absentmindedly. "But why are you here now? Why not stay in for the service?"

The guard's eyes narrowed, and the expression on his face was cold. "I was not a friend of your brother. Nor am I a friend of you. In fact, for a time, I was not friends with Prince Calaen. But things change."

"I do not understand," Legolas said slowly.

"I came here for one reason and one reason only. It was not to mourn your dear brother, nor the Elves that so….valiantly died in the fire," Berian replied.

The Prince shook his head doubtfully. "This is your grief speaking. You are unaware of what words come from your mouth. I am sorry, but I must return into the mausoleum." With that, he turned and made to leave.

"You are going nowhere," Berian hissed, reaching out and grabbing Legolas' wrist. "Nor is Calaen. He will remain in Middle Earth, unseen and hidden. For a time, at least. But never will he cease to cause damage to you and your father."

"What do you know of Calaen?" Legolas breathed.

"I know that he is a very talented individual," Berian replied. "He can adopt voices of others; he is skilled with a bow and a knife. I also know that he can disguise his writing so that it seems to be the script of others. Did you know that?"

"He was my brother!" Legolas spat. "Of course I know!"

Berian smiled and reached into his pocket, his spare hand still wrapped tightly around the Prince's wrist. "Calaen would come here himself, but under the circumstances…"

"He is afraid," Legolas hissed. He looked as though he was about to say more, but his captor dropped something onto the ground, and he lowered his gaze. "That is my writing. Calaen has written a letter in….in my hand?"

"Exactly." Berian quickly scanned the courtyard, searching for any guards who might prevent him from doing his job. But no, there were none. They were all in the mausoleum. "Rather careless really," he mused. "Ah well."

He reached inside his cloak and swiftly drew out a knife. The blade shone and glinted in the sun, and as he held it up, his eyes flickered slightly. It seemed as though he had realized exactly what had been asked of him, and did not like it one bit. But the moment of indecision passed, and without further hesitation, he wrenched the weapon across Legolas' stomach, right above the permanent scar he had been marked with.

"What are you…?" The Prince was broken off as he found himself being thrown to the floor, the bloody knife coming to land next to him.

"Everything is explained in that letter," Berian replied. "Make sure your father reads it. He will not understand otherwise."

Legolas drew in a sharp breath, and reached across to the aforementioned letter. He picked it up and scanned it, with eyes that were going slowly out of focus. "Ai Elbereth," he breathed. "No…." He looked up to Berian. But the guard had gone.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Na sídh, gwador-nin_……………..Be at peace, my brother

_Namaarie_………………………...Farewell


	37. Nobody Believes

"What do you think happened?" Estel asked softly. The service in the mausoleum had finished, and the bodies of the soldiers had been laid to rest in tombs. A procession following Airëlus' bier had made its way out into the courtyard, where a final farewell would be made to the Crown Prince. Everything had come to a halt though, when Legolas had been found lying in a pool of his own blood next to the fountain.

Elrohir sighed, and shook his head slightly. "You read the letter. I think it is clear what happened."

"I do not believe that Legolas would do something like that," Estel said firmly. "Has Thranduil read it yet?"

"No, he is with Ada and Mithrandir," Elrohir replied. "You know, I had forgotten about him. Can you imagine his reaction when he finds out that Legolas has-?

"Stop it!" Elladan cut in. "Both of you are jumping to conclusions. It is Legolas alone who can tell us what happened, so until that time comes, you must be careful with what you say."

Exhaling deeply, Estel picked up the letter, and read through it once more. "All I will say is this: I refuse to believe that Legolas did it. He would not."

"You think that Calaen still lives," Elladan said quietly. "You think he did it."

"I did not say that," Estel replied. "Look, why would Legolas want to do something like this? Why would he want to cause so much more pain to his father?"

"Do not forget how much he despises that word engraved into his flesh," Elrohir said.

The human looked up, and his eyes flashed. "Must you describe it like that?" he demanded. "I am sure that there are other ways to do so."

"Stop being incongruous," Elrohir replied.

The door suddenly flew open and Thranduil stormed into the room, ignoring the three who were already there, as he threw himself into a chair and rested his head in his hands. Gandalf and Lord Elrond followed at a slightly calmer pace, although the expressions on their faces were identical ones of worry and poorly disguised distress.

"How does Legolas fare?" Elladan asked carefully.

Elrond sighed, and shook his head sadly. "He is well. The weakened state that he was already in was what made him fall unconscious so soon after the attack. As to who did it, I cannot tell you."

"There is something that you should know," Estel said hesitantly, passing the note to Thranduil.

The Elven-king read it, and as he did so, the expression on his face flicked from pity, to horror, and then finally, to anger. His eyes flashed silver, and wordlessly, he threw the letter back onto the desk. There was silence, and all was still for a moment, but then Elrond picked it up and slowly unfolded it, wondering whether he actually wanted to know or not.

"Read it aloud," Gandalf directed, seating himself, and lacing his fingers together.

Elrond sighed deeply, but nodded all the same. _"I am sorry for all the trouble and pain that I have caused. I am sorry for killing Naneth, for killing Airëlus, for tearing this family apart. Calaen has made a mark, both on my body and my soul. I can be rid of the mark on my body, but the one on my soul will stay forever. I am sorry for what I am going to do, but I must do it. I have no desire to carry on. If I should live, I will remain unhappy, and try to do this again. Please, do not hold this against me. It is what I want."_

As the Elf Lord finished reading, Gandalf leant forwards and rested his head in his hands. Thranduil directed his cold gaze out of the window, though what he focused on was anyone's guess. Estel's face remained impassive, but inside, he was screaming for them not to believe what was written in the letter. They _couldn't _believe it. Eventually, the Wizard spoke, his voice harsh in the tense silence.

"Are you sure this was written by Legolas?"

"It is his writing," Thranduil replied monotonously.

Gandalf nodded slowly, and lit his pipe. "Are you certain of that? You did not look at it for very long."

"After years of reading the words of your child, you come to know what their styles of writing are!" Thranduil snapped. "Yes, he wrote this. I do not doubt it."

"What will you do?" Estel asked softly.

"I do not know." The Elven-king sighed, and shook his head angrily. "My son has just….has just attempted to take the life that was given to him by Ilúvatar, and that in itself is a sin. What _can _I do? I will speak to him, but whether he will listen to me or not…"

'_That works both ways,' _Estel thought sadly. _'Will you listen to him?'_

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Legolas lay on his bed, running things over and over again in his mind. Berian had tried to kill him. He had spoken of Calaen as though he were still alive. It would make a lot of sense, for it was now common knowledge that his body had not been found. But why would the Rivendell guard do such a thing? He was no traitor. Or, was he? And if he was, why? There were so many questions, and so few answers.

But he was spared from further contemplation by the door swinging open. Thranduil entered, and without a word, sat down in a chair beside the bed, cold eyes not once leaving his son. Silently, he pulled something out from inside his robes, and held it out. But still, he did not speak.

"What are you…what are you doing?" Legolas asked softly, staring at the knife in his father's hand.

"You did not succeed down in the courtyard, so I thought that maybe you would like to try again," Thranduil replied. "After all, you said in your letter that you would remain unhappy if you lived. So here you are. Take this knife. Kill yourself."

"That letter was not written by me," Legolas said incredulously. "Ada, I did not do this to myself."

"Why did you slash yourself across the stomach?" Thranduil demanded, ignoring his son's protests. "Any fool could tell you that it is not enough to end your life. No, the proper way is to slit your throat. Or you could do it the tragic way, and stab yourself in the heart. That would get it done quickly."

"Why are you saying this?" Legolas breathed.

The Elven-king spun the knife so that it was pointing directly at his own chest. "But before you kill yourself, will you kill me? Because all of this, everything that you are doing to yourself is breaking my heart. After all that I have said to you, you do something like this. You try and take your own life. Why, Legolas? Was it to spite me? Was it to cause more pain to those who care?"

"Ada, stop!" the Prince cried, reaching out and grabbing the blade. He threw it to the ground, and looked up desperately. "I have no wish to cause pain to anyone, especially you. Why do you not believe that I did not do this to myself?"

"Then, who did?" Thranduil demanded. "You were the only one out there. Everyone else was attending the service."

"It was Berian. I do not know if you remember him or not, but he left Mirkwood many years ago. But now he has returned. He came back with the riders who went to Rivendell with Airëlus," Legolas replied. "Calaen really is still alive, and Berian is a traitor. Ada, he did this for Calaen. He told me."

Thranduil shook his head, and smiled sadly. "This…Berian is not here. The only Elves from Rivendell are Elrond and the twins. I know this, because I watched the riders entering the courtyard. There were ten of them. That is no more or less than when they set out."

"I know, but…. Ada, I would not lie about something like this," Legolas said desperately. "You must believe me."

"I want to," Thranduil replied. "I am sorry, but until I know what has happened-

The Prince jumped from the bed, and grabbed the front of his father's robes. "If you do not believe me, Calaen will come back. He will gain more and more power, and will do everything that he can to be rid of us. Please, listen to me. Berian said that Calaen will never cease to cause damage to us. If I do not have your trust and belief, how can we prevent that from happening?"

"I will send out patrols to search for Calaen and Berian, if that will calm your nerves," Thranduil said, standing, and pushing Legolas gently away. "I am sorry to have to do this, but you have left me no other choice. Until I say so, you are to have no contact with any form of blade." With that, he reached down and picked up the knife that had been dropped.

"It is only Calaen who will cause me harm!" Legolas shouted, as his father went over to the door. "Not myself!"

Thranduil paused, and turned to face the Prince. "I am sorry, but I have to do this. I have to do it because I love you too much to see you in any more pain."

"And if Calaen comes here?" Legolas asked bitterly. "Would I be able to defend myself? No, because you would have taken all of my weapons. Ada, I am telling you the truth. For once, believe me."

"You will not need to defend yourself, because Calaen will not be coming here," Thranduil said, pulling open the door. "I am sorry."

Legolas watched in absolute despair as his father silently left the room. As soon as the door was closed, he let out a yell of anger, and slammed a fist into the wall, not caring if the Elven-king heard. Deep down, he knew that there was no reason why anyone should believe that he had been attacked. Calaen really had set up the perfect suicide.

But he had to convince them that he was telling the truth. He _had _to. If he did not, then Calaen would become powerful, very powerful. Already he had managed to corrupt Berian, and it was only a matter of time before he made more friends and got more followers. And what would happen to Middle Earth, then?

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Out in the forest, everything was quiet - except for the mournful lament of the trees. They sang songs of grief for the Elves that had so recently passed on, and they cried also for the troubles of King Thranduil and Prince Legolas. The birds were still and quiet as they watched over the palace, and as the wild animals skulked through the woods, they made no noise.

Sitting under a large oak tree a way from the palace, was an Elf, dark haired and evil eyed. A smile played on his lips as he listened to the songs of the forest. His plan had worked. But he could tarry no longer. He would leave, and go far away. He would return, though. One day. After all, this was his home. The trees, he owned. The animals, he owned. The people….he owned. And one day, he would return, and claim what was rightfully his….

**THE END**

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Wow...I....that...you...wow is the only word I can say at the moment. Really, I totally didn't think that I would get so many reviews for this fanfic. But...wow! You guys are so amazing, and thank you so much for all the help and ideas that you've given me throughout this story. Honestly, I couldn't have done it without you. But now, it's over. How sad. I didn't realize that this would be the last chapter, so when I wrote all that, it was a bit of a shock! But the sequel will be up in a few days. It will be set in the time of the Fellowship, so you'll see other characters like Frodo and Sam and everyone else. See you soon!

Mistopurr

x-x-x

**PS: I had author notes and individual responses in all of the other chapters, but I've just been doing a few minor changes, and I accidentally deleted them. They weren't important to the story, though, so that doesn't matter.**


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